


Price or Prize OR The Darkest Day. A SQ Christmas Story

by justlovebt



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/F, Friendship/Love, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlovebt/pseuds/justlovebt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Regina accidentally overhears something, it does not only bring back memories but crushes a hope she hadn't dared to admit feeling just yet. Will someone be able to shed light and brighten her darkest day?</p><p>A Swan Queen Christmas story to wish Happy Holidays to everyone in this beautiful fandom!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Price or Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gogk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gogk), [Giagr34](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giagr34/gifts), [OnceIfellfortheEvilQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceIfellfortheEvilQueen/gifts), [And all my fellow SQ fans](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=And+all+my+fellow+SQ+fans).



> HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! So… My muse decided to write a Christmas story… and then, what else could I do but share it with the amazing people of this fandom!? I would like to put a special thanks out there for my 2 good friends Giagr34 and OnceIfellfortheevilqueen for reading this prologue and pointing out my *embarrassing* mistakes. Any that are left though are totally mine!
> 
> So, here is my way of saying: Merry Christmas! I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the OUAT characters, I wish I did, but I don't think I have a Fairy Godmother!

Price or Prize. OR The darkest day, A Swan Queen Christmas story.

 

**Prologue. Price or Prize**

Regina's eyes caught sight of the infuriating, ravishing blonde through the window of the diner and she felt the corners of her mouth pull up in the smile that had been appearing at the oddest moments, lately. The fluttering feeling in her abdomen that accompanied said smile, made her hands tremble slightly and she readjusted the apples in the basket she was carrying, just to occupy the body parts.

She was surprised but glad to catch the Sheriff here at this hour, the only customer in the normally crowded establishment, ordering her usual cinnamon cocoa and that dreadful, sticky pastry she was so fond of. And although nerves were raging through her with the speed of light, Regina found that she welcomed the rush of emotions overwhelming her.

After the curse had broken and Henry had decided to stay with Ms. Swan for some time, Regina had felt emptier than she had in the 18 years before he had arrived to Storybrooke and brightened up her life. And the emptiness, the cold and hollow feeling, was something that, she had to admit, terrified her. But now that everything had calmed down, and the unlikely (dared she really call it?) friendship with Ms Swan (Emma…) was developing, now they had made new living arrangements and Henry had, on his request, moved back in and was staying with her half of the time, now that there were family dinners and lunch appointments and joint trips to school plays, everything seemed to be different. Just the fact that she was here, delivering her prized apples Widow Lucas had _requested,_ proved that. And the difference filled her up, and warmed her in a way she had never dared to dream about.

Freeing a hand to smooth her already flawless hair, Regina felt herself hesitate, the shaking of her fingers showing her emotions were much too much on the surface. She wondered why she didn't care more. Why she didn't hear her mother's voice resounding in her head, reprimanding her not to be so weak. Why she didn't feel all the walls pulling up around her damaged heart.

Maybe it was because the ray of hope she had allowed to enter, the day before. The final push to her walls which had slowly but surely been crumbling under the constant attacks of Emma's kindness. The lunches delivered to the mansion, a sweet smile as a thank you for a home-cooked meal, the full-on genuine laughter during a board- or video game.

Emotion swirled in the former Queen's abdomen, and she couldn't say she wasn't slightly taken aback by the intensity of her response as she watched Emma easily banter with Ruby, their friendship so natural that it evoked the slightest pang of jealousy. Of envy. Regina couldn't even imagine having someone to speak to so freely, so openly. Or maybe she  _could_  imagine and maybe  _that_  was why it hurt so much that she did not seem able to have that. To allow herself to have it. Although, she had to admit, thanks to Emma, it actually felt within her reach.

Once upon a time, the blonde had been her nightmare. The woman she had always feared, in more ways than one. Not only the savior created to singlehandedly break the curse she had given up everything for to cast. But also the preferred mother, the one who would take away the child she loved beyond anything. Yet now, when the savior birthmother of her son entered her dreams, the visions were all but nightmares.

Because things were different between them. Not as clipped and uncomfortable. Their sharp comments had softened and gotten a teasing tone that made Regina's heart ache and yearn in a way she couldn't possibly describe. Surely their dialogue was not comparable to the easy-going one she now observed, but the brunette thought that  _perhaps_  that could also have something to do with the tension, the palpable undercurrent of something more, of longing for something more, that always painted their interactions. The sudden awkwardness that sometimes came over them, as they shared a drink after Henry had gone to bed, or they found themselves talking longer than expected having simply ran into each other while grocery shopping (A chore Regina, since the breaking of the curse, thoroughly despised, but even a former Evil Queen had to eat, but was much more pleasurable at the occasion she had encountered the blonde.) seemed to have to do with a reluctance to admit to strong feelings out of fear, than anything else.

There seemed no lack of desire to spend time in each other's company, quite the opposite in fact. And that, in combination with the stolen glances, the burning of turquoise eyes she sometimes was sure to feel, the flutter in her stomach she felt every time she thought of one Ms Emma Swan, had caused her to finally give in.

Give in to her son's plea, but also her own desires.

So when she had entered the sheriff's station the previous day, the plan had been simple. She found that the uncharacteristic nerves, making her throat ache and her voice hoarse, made the execution of said plan  _not_  so simple. She had tried to act aloof, even thrown in a snide that was more on edge than they had become used to lately, but Emma had simply smiled her disarming smile and had asked her, in that lovely, teasing manner, what the hell she wanted. Of course she had, true to her role, complained about the woman's language before answering. Before, her heart suddenly stopping in horror over her own words, asking Emma to spend Christmas with them. She had not met the turquoise eyes, the fear to see a mocking rejection there, (one she would clearly deserve and not only due to the last minute timeframe), etched in the mesmerizing color. And when she had received the almost instant, positive answer, she had been quite sure she hadn't heard it correctly. She blushed as she recalled the unregal 'Really?' she had uttered, and she was glad she had had the (glimpse of) clarity of mind to add that Henry would be thrilled at the prospect.

And then it had happened, as she had made to leave and lingered in the doorway. The Sheriff's warm hand had caught her wrist, turning her around. Those thrilling eyes, so close to hers, she almost stumbled back. But she'd seemed rooted to the spot, the physical contact evoking something in her she had thought died long ago. Then, as Emma had glanced up at the mistletoe above them and pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek, somewhat closer to her lips than deemed appropriate (but for once, Regina could not find it in her heart to complain about the lack of etiquette) something had opened deep inside her. Something small with immense force, like a leaf of grass that had the ability to break and split concrete. And it had been as if all her emotions had come tumbling through her, at the moment Emma had whispered her gratitude in her ear, the breath grazing her skin eliciting a quickly hidden shiver.

And now, the smile seemed plastered to her face, impossible to suppress the intensity of the sensations that had taken over. So much so, that even Henry had asked her in the morning whatever was the matter with her. But he had done so with a smile on his face as well and had, reluctantly, accepted her explanation that it simply was the Christmas spirit that had gotten a hold of her.

The smile broadened now, her desire to hear the blonde's voice finally winning over her anxiety and she moved to enter the diner. The difficulty of the heavy basket in her arms had only allowed her to open the door at a crack when the words drifted in her direction, effectively freezing her.

'No shit! You're spending Christmas with  _The Evil Queen_?'

Regina blinked. That hurt. It had always hurt her to be called…  _That_. And she had always felt Ms. Lucas was one of the more… understanding… villagers. Then again, the woman was Snow's best friend, she guessed she shouldn't have expected any different. She willed the constricting feeling in her chest, in her throat to fall away, the perfect snide remark forming and ready to roll of her lips…

'Rubes! What do you expect? This is my first chance to actually  _be_  with the kid for Christmas, if spending time with Regina is the price I have to pay for that, I am more than willing…'

It was the sound of a dozen Honey crisp apples falling and scattering, rolling in different directions, that interrupted Emma's sentence and made the blonde look back.

Their eyes met, for the shortest instant, and when all the years of practice proved insufficient for her to pull up the mask she had always worn, Regina did the only thing she could.

She turned and left, the calling of her name behind her, reaching her as through a fog, not something she could allow herself to respond to. Because together with the apples, her heart had fallen and shattered.

Once again she had been the price to be paid.

And this time, she now dared to admit to herself, while a single tear found its way down her cheek, she had really thought, hoped, wished… This time she had really  _wanted_  to be the prize to be won.

…

TBC

 


	2. Letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina tries to pull up all her walls as a result of the words she has overheard, but finds they aren't as effective as they once were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reviews and kudos make such a lovely Christmas present! Thank you all so much!

**Chapter 1. Letting go.**

'Mom?!'

She slipped past him, unable to face the hazel eyes that looked so much like his birthmother's. It wasn't the first time she had cursed his genetics, but it was the first time in quite a while and the first time it was accompanied by this heavy, suffocating sadness in her chest. She knew it wouldn't be the last.

'Mom? What…?'

He reached for her, but then he halted, at exactly the moment she wanted to turn around. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide the stains the tears had left, but when she had heard his voice, the way he called her 'Mom' again, she had felt like maybe, just maybe, it didn't matter. But then he inhaled sharply.

'You used Magic…'

The tone was half exasperated, half accusatory. She had kept her promise to him, had not, only in rare exception, used her Magic. But when she had seen Emma approach, it had been like a reflex, the knee-jerk response to the fight-or-flight dilemma raging through her. She quickly wiped away the tears that continued to fall and willed her emotions to stop running wild.

'I…'

'I can smell it, Mom, it smells like… Like… I don't know like warm apples or something. You used Magic.'

'Yes, yes I did, I had to… I just had to get away…'

Her instant admission seemed to calm him down a little, but the hand that had been reaching for her, never did achieve that goal. Instead it was retrieved and stuffed, deeply, in his jean pocket, in a gesture so similar to that of a certain blonde, it made Regina's heart wrench.

'But… Why would you need to get out of Granny's…?'

He sounded so… so…  _disappointed._ She placed her hands on the small vanity table that adorned her hallway, trying to hide their trembling. She had never turned to face him and now felt like she never could. She sensed how her heart opened, leaking liquid thick as tar inside her chest. The shame, the pain, the regret. The knowledge she had never deserved him, his love,  _her…_  No matter how much she wanted to. She couldn't help but try though, her love for him so strong she couldn't bear the idea of losing him once more.

'I, Henry… I ran into Em…  _Miss Swan.'_

The biting way she spat out the name she corrected did not go unnoticed, the heavy sadness as its reason did.

'Is she ok? What did you do to her? Is she still going to spend Christmas with us?'

_Oh…_

Her hands went cold, that's how she noticed it first, the tingling build-up of Magic in her system. The heart she had thought to be shattered into dust only proving her wrong by breaking just that little bit more. The decision was instant, and even though impulse had something to do with it, she also knew it was right. She couldn't allow him to see her like this. To see her break like this.

'Go get your bag, Henry.'

Lifeless, she turned around slightly, the smile she was hiding behind felt painful on her lips and she wasn't sure at all that he wouldn't see through her thin-layered façade, but she just had to count on her lack of interest in her.

'What?'

'You're spending the night at Ms. Swan's.'

'Oh… Really? Cool, but… Why?'

'Don't ask questions, just do as I say.'

She hated that sentence. She had hated hearing it and she hated using it, but when he, unexpectedly, with a strange look in her direction, obeyed, she just felt herself sink into the small table she had been holding onto. The Magic made her hands shake, violently, and she pushed herself away from the wood, frightened she would set it ablaze. Magic was emotion and right now, she felt, she had no control what so ever over either of those two.

Inhaling deeply, she pressed her hands to her chest, shortly contemplating simply taking out her heart, taking away her pain. Not feeling anything at all seemed preferable over this constant pain, the constant rejection of everything and anyone she held dear. But the thought of the coldness in Cora's eyes, combined with the soft, thumbing, rummaging sounds from upstairs reminding her of her son, made her discard the option instantly. He may not have chosen her, he surely didn't prefer her, and he may always see the Evil in her, but she would not, could not turn into her mother. He meant too much to her to do that to him. So she would keep on trying. Trying, desperately, to deserve his love.

A knock on the door tensed her muscles instantly and she could already sense the person on the other side of the door before she even had the chance to breathe.

She looked down at her trembling hands and inhaled as she clenched her jaws together, allowing the old, familiar feeling of coldness to wash over her. If the people wanted an Evil Queen, if that was the only way she would ever be seen, she might as well have the advantage of the Evil Queen's mask and armor. She pulled open the door without warning and watched the blonde stumble on her porch.

'Miss Swan?'

Haughty, regal and condescending, it was surprising what practice could do for her tone of voice under the circumstances.

'Regina! Shit!'

'If you are done uttering profanities, Miss Swan, maybe you could…'

'I… Regina…'

'You've said that, dear.'

Turquoise eyes flickered, hurt, at the icy words and Regina felt her eyes narrow. She had never seen Snow's self-righteousness in Emma before, and she  _had_  looked. But it had seemed that the blonde had been quite the opposite of her mother in that aspect. Like she didn't feel at all entitled to the love and kindness she automatically received from the townspeople. Like she hated the title of Savior, and like she felt uncomfortable being the hero. The shown pain now, however, as she approached the former Queen slowly, seemed very out of place.

'Please let me explain.'

'You were perfectly clear, Em…  _Miss Swan_.'

She cursed the slip of her tongue and the breaking of her voice, and the hope that maybe it had gone by unnoticed was crumbled at the sight of Emma's face. The hope and horror battling for a first place in those beautiful features.

'No, Regina, Please… I never meant for you to…'

'Hear you? That's generally the case, dear, with such things. Although someone with the slightest hint of intelligence would actually look around before… Oh, I must have forgotten who I was addressing for a moment.'

Sarcasm dripped heavy from her voice. She reprimanded herself for not coming up with a better remark than the snide on the blonde's intellect, but the blur that threatened to overtake her, didn't leave much for her to work with.

'Mom? I'm rea… Oh, hey Ma! Wow, you're fast… Are we taking the Bug?'

'I… Uhh… What?'

'You're coming to pick me up, right?'

The sudden insecurity in his voice made Regina see the flaw in her plan. She couldn't let her son feel undesired, no matter how understanding and correct the blonde's astonishment would be, she simply wouldn't stand for it. She opened her mouth to speak, but Emma surprised her. Turquoise eyes darted from the packed bag to Regina's face and narrowed.

'Always, kiddo. Why don't you wait in the car while I talk to your mom?'

She crouched automatically, gently stroking some hair out of his eyes and cleaning some smudge that had collected on his cheek, making him wiggle away from her.

'Mohoooom.'

She smiled at his antics, trying to swallow the hurt his dismissal brought. She pulled him in for a tight hug and felt a treacherous tear escape her eye when he fought that also, although less strongly than he had before.

'Bye, mom.'

He surprised her by kissing her dry cheek before turning around and storming to the car, without as much as a glance back. Her hand moved on its own accord, hovering over the place where his unexpected affection still was palpable, wishing she could capture it and put it in a box.

'Regina?'

She turned, quickly wiping away the remainder of the tear that had betrayed her.

'I expect you to tell him I will celebrate with him later, Miss Swan, and I want his Christmas to be impeccable. No TV-dinners, no family brawls, do you think you can accomplish that?'

'I… But… I expected to get him back before…'

'You wanted Christmas with your son, yes? I am giving it to you, free of _charge_.'

'You can't just…'

'Oh can't I, dear? Obviously you've forgotten who you are addressing also. You have no idea what I'm capable of!'

She could just shut the door, before the mask shattered and her knees gave way. She grimaced as she leaned against the white wood of it, as unyielding as she wished her heart to be. The pain in her chest radiated through her veins, the silence surrounding her only a reminder of the emptiness of her life. And when the only sound breaking it, was that of hesitant footsteps, finding their way off her porch, she finally allowed herself to slide, and break, down.

_…_

_TBC_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the angst (have faith in fate, my dear SwanQueeners) this is meant to wish you lovely holidays! Hope they are filled with love and hope!
> 
> Merry Christmas, my dear friends!


	3. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of an unexpected visitor cause Regina to be captured in a rapidly evolving whirlwind of opposite emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudo's and responses. Such a lovely Christmas gift indeed :)

Chapter 2. Assumption

It was oddly satisfying to see the amber liquid swirl around in the glass and yet Regina found herself hesitant to actually consume it. She had cleaned the house, even more thoroughly than she normally did, had contemplated taking off the Christmas decorations and discarded the thought as she had seen the stack of presents under the Christmas tree. The big box with Emma’s name on it taunting her, mocking her as she had let some tears escape once again. She wouldn’t… Couldn’t take away the Christmas she had traditionally build up with Henry, but the least she could do was take away the reminder of her own absurd weakness. Her own desire for kindness which Emma must have seen and used to her advantage so perfectly.

She had taken the box and had stood in front of the fireplace for minutes before having to admit to herself she wouldn’t be able to do this. Scolding the hollow ache in her chest and the tears on her cheeks she had made way to her study and thrown the box into a drawer of her desk, where she knew it would continue to mock her no matter how many times she closed and locked it. And it had been then her eye had fallen on the carafe of apple cider.

Hence her situation now, trying to convince herself it was any other day, sitting alone in front of the tree she and Henry had decorated some weeks before. Emma had been mocking their ‘system’, the order in which they had put up the decorations, her laugh so genuine and utterly gorgeous. But later, after Henry had gone to bed, the blonde had admitted, with tears in her eyes, she had never seen a sight more beautiful and thanked Regina for giving their kid these wonderful Christmas traditions. The memory constricted her throat. Had that all been a lie as well? Had it all just been a way to be closer to Henry, to make her, Regina, weak and give in? Being nice to Henry’s adoptive mother: A permanent price to be paid to stay in her child’s life.

And why, in the name of the Gods, had she made it so easy? Why had she made it into something more? Was she really _that_ desperate, starving for affection?

Her heart wrenched with the answer and pounded in the rhythm of the images that forced themselves on her. The way Emma’s eyes lit up when she laughed, the way she pulled her fingers through those blonde locks when they made their way into her line of vision, the way those lips had felt on her cheek. Yes, tenderness had been rare in her life and yes, of course she craved it. But this had been more than that. Her defenses had stood no chance against the whirlwind of emotions Emma had evoked in her. The savior, indeed. And Regina has started to hope, to believe, perhaps there was a chance the blonde was _her_ savior as well. That maybe, destiny had played a strange trick on them. How characteristicallly self-centered and incredibly stupid. And now, she was paying the price for her weakness.

She noticed she was staring once again at the glass in her hand, contemplating whether to down the liquid in one gulp or put the tumbler down when the jerking response of her body to the sudden sound took the decision for her. Her silk shirt, not so coincidentally the one a certain blonde had ‘borrowed’ once, (even Evil Queens knew how to wallow) was drenched in apple cider within nanoseconds as the glass slid from her fingers. She felt her anger rise and tingle, familiar, in her veins before it spluttered and extinguished. Anger turned to fear when she heard the window break and then quickly changed to resignation.

Whatever they wanted from her, there was nothing left to give. No more reason to put up a fight.  She stood and closed her jacket, effectively hiding the stain the spilled alcohol had caused, pulled her fingers through her hair in a movement she had seen Emma perform so many a time. Then, she pulled back her shoulders when she heard the rapid footsteps approach, patiently awaiting her fate.

…

‘Mom?’

Before she even had a chance to be surprised, she felt his arms around her waist, his head pressed against her abdomen. Her hands hovered in the air only a split second before they came down on her son, holding him close to her. His shaking demeanor allowing her mind to catch up with her.

‘Henry? What are you doing here? Was _that_ you? Oh gods, are you hurt?’

She crouched down as he pulled back slightly, but he didn’t entirely let her go, his hands clinging onto her sleeves as she was on eyelevel with him, checking all his bones for broken ones.

When she found no immediate signs of injury, she cupped his face in her hands. The warmth of his skin against her palms making her feel strangely alive and she couldn’t help but smile. A smile that broke, together with her heart, when she saw a tear, _his,_ trace its way down the back of her hand.

‘Sweetheart, what happened?’

‘I… I broke the window, I’m sorry…’

Another tear meandered over the veins of her hand, causing Regina to swallow away some of her own. Had she really been _that_ strict a mother to him that breaking something made him cry?

‘Glass can be replaced, dear. I’m only having some trouble understanding why you found it so hard to…’

Hearing her own words she corrected herself, her heart wrenching painfully at the thought she, at times, couldn’t even find herself able to use the love in her heart for her son to talk to him in a normal way. She tried again.

‘Sweety, why didn’t you simply use the front door?’

He looked down, despite her gentle tone and the heavy feeling in her chest was suffocating. It ached for him, her heart. He looked so lost.

‘I didn’t have my key and I thought you wouldn’t want to let me in after… After what I said. What I did…’

Her eyes grew wide and she almost choked on the words

‘Henry! Whatever gave you _that_ idea?’

‘You didn’t want to spend Christmas with me…’

His voice was small when he said it and he didn’t seemed to dare look at her.

‘Oh, Henry, no… No, no, no…’

She pulled him closer to her again, the wet silk cooling of her body causing her to shiver, or perhaps it was a shudder due to the consequence of her actions she had not foreseen. She had thought her son didn’t care anymore. That he had wanted to spend Christmas with his ‘real’ family. She had never once considered the possibility that he would think _she_ didn’t want _him_.

‘It’s just that I’ve had a wonderful Christmas thanks to you for all these years, sweetheart. I thought it would be fair to share you. You are my little prince, Henry, I never _don’t_ want you.’

He pulled back, not in protest of her affection but to look into her eyes.

‘Mom, that’s a double negative…’

The laugh came out barking and surprised not only her son, but herself as well. The smile that tugged on the corners of her lips as she saw the relief in his eyes, warmed her from within.

‘Oh, you…’

She tickled him carefully and as he laughed and wiggled under her probing fingers, for a moment  the years fell away. The curse, the storybook, the Evil Queen all vanished and she was thrown back into a time before that, when she had just been a single mother who loved her son more than anything in the world.

‘Mom?’

He broke the spell with his serious eyes, the soul, so innocent and trusting, so _clean_ yet and still so full of regret she already knew what he was going to say. But before she could stop it, the icy feeling scorching through her chest, he had already uttered the words, always so difficult for her, so easy for him.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I… Dear… Whatever for? Please, there is no need…’

‘No mom, there _is_. I never should have assumed that you hurt Ma, I mean, she told me Assume makes an ASS out of U and ME  and that she was the…’

‘Henry! Language!’

His laugh rippled though her like life itself and she had to try very hard not to smile, when a thought occurred to her. But before she had a chance to speak, he had seemed to found his courage.

‘Ok, ok, she just said that it was her fault, and well… We kind of fought and then I felt bad, because in the night, I heard her cry... I think she is really sorry too, Mom. But anyway, I’m still angry. And then everything went wrong. I mean, like _everything_. Ruby somehow messed up the supplies for Christmas dinner, and now everybody has to eat spaghetti, there was a fire in the diner, -don’t worry, no one got hurt-and now we can’t spend it there. Leroy had a fight with Astrid and there won’t be any candles. Oh, and because he got drunk before trying to fix the Christmas lights somehow he managed to break all of them, and...’

Her heart had stopped somewhere around his admission of Emma’s tears, but she tried with all her might to harden the organ, to close it and make it impervious, safe against those strong emotions that kept trying to make their way in.

‘Wait… Henry… Does _Miss_ … Does Emma know you’re here?’

His eyes told her everything she needed to know, and she straightened, already glancing around for the phone, feeling the constriction in her own chest as she remembered the moments she had found his bed empty.

‘Honey, you can’t do that and you know it. She must be terribly worried about you!’

He mumbled something as while she grasped the phone.

‘Sorry, what dear?’

‘It’s just that… Mom… I… I missed you. I don’t want to spend Christmas without you. You made all my Christmases special, and I was just hoping… Well, thinking…’

When she glanced back at him, his stubborn stance reminded her so much of the woman who had given birth to him her breath momentarily caught in her throat. She looked at him expectantly, urging him wordlessly to finish his sentence.

‘Maybe you could… You know… _Save_ Christmas?’

She blinked at him, unable to speak a word when the scream outside made her answer and the phone in her hand obsolete.

‘Regina?’

There was clear panic in Emma’s voice and she looked pointedly at Henry, who looked taken aback, although Regina wasn’t sure whether that was because the worry he had caused or because the face his mother had found him so quickly.

And then, as she pulled the door open, she realized she had just mentally referred to the other woman as Henry’s mother without flinching.

‘He’s here.’

Regina spoke the words immediately at the sight of the tense blonde, standing in her doorway and she saw the shoulders lower slightly, the panic in the eyes calming instantly. She stepped aside, not even contemplating not letting the savior in. Something she then, briefly, wished to have done when the woman slid by her, smelling of fresh winter breezes and that scent that was _just_ her, causing a swirling sensation in her abdomen and a strange lightheadedness.

‘Henry!? Geez kid, you scared the hell out of me!’

As the blonde latched on to him, she saw it happen, the scene that had replayed in her nightmares so many times, now with the same players but in a different setup. A different order.  Henry pushed his birthmother away. His eyes twinkling with the childlike intensity of his anger.

‘I went to find my _real_ mo…’

‘Henry!’

Regina saw his head shoot in her direction as she warningly let out his name, the motherly correcting and exasperated tone perfected in her years of practice. But the damage had already been done. She saw it, the perfect reflection of her own feelings back then, in Emma’s features. Henry really had no idea how much hurt his words could cause.

That must also be a genetic thing…

…

‘In a little over your head, Miss Swan? Well, welcome to parenthood. That’s what it feels like to raise a child every single day. You can’t run and hide, Emma, he needs you.’

She had sent Henry to his room, and then as she saw his face and remembered the breaking glass, to hers. Her advice for him not to look under her bed (where she had hidden one of the presents for their annual traditional scavenger hunt) should distract him long enough to create some clarity in the turmoil that were her thoughts and feelings. Well… Her thoughts at least. She shouldn’t expect _too_ much. She couldn’t help the last sentence. It was the way the woman stood, or, more _hopped,_  unbalanced from one foot to the other, as if ready to flee. It was visceral, her own reaction to that realization.

 It hurt how much she wanted to scream, beg for Emma to not do what, Regina understood so well, came natural to her: run. It hurt because she wanted Emma to stay, not for Henry but for herself, and she knew that was something she could never have. It physically hurt to _understand_ the emotion she saw in the turquoise. Hadn’t she herself, countless times when Henry had been a baby, felt the heavy presence of responsibility on her shoulders? Had she not trembled and desired to flee at times, only to hate herself for it afterwards? But she didn’t _want_ to understand this woman who was causing her so much pain. She didn’t want to need a person who would never want her back. She didn’t want to love her…

But Regina’s heart pounded in the 2-syllable rhythm of her name and she knew she didn’t have any choice in the matter.

And now that her eyes were opened by her teenage son, she also realized that eliminating the blonde from her life, avoiding, _running_ if you will, was not an option. Not for her and neither for the blonde who had spent her lifetime doing so.

‘He doesn’t need me, Regina. He needs YOU. You’re his _mom_.’

‘As are you!’

She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, but she had to fight for Henry’s happiness. He may have been angry with his birthmother, but Regina couldn’t deny his love for Emma any more than she could her own. And so the words had escaped her mouth, the words, she had to reluctantly agree, that summed up everything she had not want to admit for so long, and that now was everything she wanted.

They were a family. 

But instead of the soothing effect she had meant to accomplice, she saw the spark light a fire in Emma’s heart. Tears rimmed the turquoise eyes as the woman spat back her reaction.

‘Sure! Right! According to who,Regina?! When Henry fell last month and I called you? Do you remember? The moment you ran in, Whale told you, he took you to him. He told you it was all ok. But I had been there, fighting for a scrap of news. He made it very clear what I am, Regina. And that is nothing. Nothing nothing! Nothing at all. In the eyes of the system I was nothing and, in the eyes of the law, that is what I am again. And now he saw what a mess I made of things, Henry saw it too. And he came running back to you.  You hold all the cards, Regina.’

Something snapped, she felt it resonate within her and the lifelessness that had taken a hold of her ever since she had overheard Emma’s words seemed to drift away. She smiled wryly at the irony. Yet again it was Emma Swan who made her feel alive, as she had done since the first moment she had set foot in Storybrooke. (or maybe even before that, as to the fact that without her, there would be no Henry.)

‘He ran away from you ONCE, Miss Swan. _Once_! Do you remember how many times he ran away from _me_ before the curse broke? After it? Are you seriously saying you are willing to give up after _one_ setback? Because then, maybe, SAVIOR, you are right. Then you are not worthy to be his mother. This child, _my son,_ he doesn’t deserve to be given up on, to be abandoned by…’

‘You are one to talk not, aren’t you, Madame Mayor!? Kicking the kid out, right before Christmas? There is something about that with us kids, who get put into the system at birth, we generally _don’t like_ being kicked out, but there’s not a whole lot we can do about it now, is there?’

The pain, the raw and utter pain that sounded, not only through the words, or the voice, but through _Emma._ The blonde radiated it, so strongly, that it hit Regina as would Magic, the emotion suffocating her in its force. The words started to trickle in, not only their tone, but their meaning and suddenly she could see Emma’s tear-filled eyes again, when she had rushed to Henry’s side at the hospital. She could see them light up again when she had asked the blonde to stay for a drink for the first time.

She wanted to reach out, wanted to cup the savior’s cheek in her palm, wanted to reassure her as she had just done Henry. No… Not as she had just done Henry. She felt the blush creep up to her cheeks as she felt the tingle in her lips, a ghost of the way she _did_ want to show the blonde _just_ how **wanted** she really was. But that was nonsense and she let her arm, which had moved up in its own accord it seemed, drop. The step she had taken in Emma’s direction however, was more difficult to hide, as was the tone in her voice as the words slipped out.

‘I… I… Oh _Emma_ …’

‘Oh, don’t you ‘Emma’ me now, Regina… For fuck sake, I thought that at least one of us could… I don’t know, have a clean slate in this abandonment bullshit.  
Don’t look at me like that. This is not about me, this is about Henry! How could you make him think you didn’t want him? How could you set me up to fail? I get that you were pissed at me and I deserve it, but I never thought you would use the kid to…’

_Set her up to fail? Use Henry?_

She felt the fire start to spark inside her chest again, the passion, in love and war (and was there a difference between the two here, really?) Emma made her heart roar. She wasn’t sure if it made her want to throw the woman out, or throw her against the wall and kiss those pink lips until she stopped uttering such foolish things. Her heart corrected her instantly, screaming out the answer in a rush of pain and she felt her face distort with it as she channelized it in the only way she now possibly could. Anger.

‘Miss Swan! I would never do such a thing! And, if you must know, I already discussed the matter with him. I was under the impression that I was doing something good…’

But as much as she had spat out the first words, the anger seemed to seep out of her with every syllable that followed. She had been trying to do good. How ironic. She had hurt those she had tried to please. The ones she loved most. Wasn’t _that_ the story of her life? She turned away as she felt the tear escape the corner of her eye, the memory of the first she had loved, whose life had been taken just because he had _dared_ to love her, overwhelming her.

‘Well, maybe you haven’t thought things through.’

She smiled, bitter-sweetly, through her tears when Emma’s stinging words reached her. Had she ever? Did she ever? She had always acted on impulse, been guided by her feelings. Even now, these last months, she had just yearned so much to be loved that she had convinced herself she was seeing  all these little signs that never had been there in the first place.

‘No, perhaps I have not.’

Regina’s answer was short and matter-of-fact, as she discreetly wiped away the tear and turned to Emma once again.

‘But it’s not like you’re ever going to admit… Ehhh. Huh? What?’

‘Ever so eloquent, dear… I was saying that perhaps I _did_ not think things through, Miss Swan, you are correct.’

At seeing Emma’s facial expression, and maybe because it felt so raw and terrifying to expose herself so much, she added the snark, almost as an afterthought.

 ‘Maybe you would like to inform the newspaper of this rare event?’

But the ‘hardy-har-har’ expression her words evoked, including the sticking out of a tongue, threw Regina back into the last few weeks, in which their interactions had become so… amicable. And it was so lovely and endearing, and yet such an agonizing lie, she felt it scald the inside of her veins, leaving her trembling. It took her a moment to find her voice again, but she was glad that, when she did, its sound was as aloof as she had intented.

‘I hear there have been problems with the Christmas Celebration of the town?’

‘What the hell does that have to do with anything?’

‘Language, Miss Swan! I was simply referring to the fact that maybe we have to revise our Christmas plans once more. You are right, I have acted on an impulse because I was… I… It was harder on me than I had assumed as well, not being with him today. Maybe we all have to pay a price, for HIM, to make _his_ Christmas Magical… I… I suppose one could see my actions as selfish, I apologize.’

‘I… No, Regina I’m the one who should apolo…’

She cut off the blonde immediately, knowing what it was she was referring to. She didn’t want to think about the words she had heard. The words that had resounded in the silence that had surrounded her only moments before. The words that threw her back to what she always had been. Undesired. Despised. Or, maybe worse, merely tolerated. The Evil Queen and before that, the disappointing daughter, unwanted wife. The price to be paid… Always. And the one for whom she had not been, had paid with his life.

‘No! We are not going to discuss _that,_ Miss Swan. Not now, not **ever**.’

Her voice was so cold, it surprised even herself and she saw the blonde, whose demeanor had changed completely in what seemed a split second, hesitate. All the anger seemed to have exited the savior, only a sad acceptance Regina recognized too well painting her beautiful features.

‘So, what is your plan?’

Regina felt she had to purposefully _make_ herself look away as she was drinking in the sight that was Emma, the gesture she made, pushing the unruly, blonde curls back, made her want to moan.

‘I propose you spend Christmas here, after all…’

Something, a mixture of surprise, desire, yearning and disappointment, flickered in turquoise eyes.

‘I… Fuck, Regina, the diner, _Christmas_ , everything is a mess, I mean, I can’t just… I have to…’

_But she wants to…_

_Oh, for the sake of hell, stop it!_

Contradicting thoughts and emotions swirled through her with the speed of light. Of course Emma _wanted_ to spend Christmas with her son. She had even been willing to spend time with ‘The Evil Queen’ to do so. Had she, really, not learned anything? Her heart constricted, painfully, as if someone had wrapped his (or, rather, _her_ ) hand around it. She had to focus on Henry. He was all that mattered.

‘No, I think I haven’t made myself clear. What I mean to say, dear, is that we _all_ should pay a price this Christmas. Mine will be the company of your insipid parents and friends.’

Emma’s head snapped up so rapidly, Regina was worried for the function of her cervical spine.

‘Wait, what? You want me to invite Mary Ma… my mo… _Snow_ and everyone to spend Christmas HERE?’

Maybe she would be able to amuse herself through dinner by replaying the incredulous, but impressed (dared she say, admiring?) look Emma gave her now in her mind’s eye. On the other hand, perhaps avoiding the blonde and any thoughts about her, would be a wiser decision. Trying with all her might to pull up the wall around her heart she let the sarcastic words drip of her lips.

‘There you go, dear, perhaps I was wrong about your intelligence after all. Although I doubt it.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Dear, if you want me to change my opinion about your IQ you simply must…’

‘No, Regina, we both know you’ll never see me as anything but an idiot. I’m talking about… Actually, that’s really amazing of you. Would you really…?’

Emma had taken a step closer and suddenly something in her eyes changed. Something vital, visceral seemed to push her back, the enthusiasm that had started to light up the turquoise suddenly shattered as just pain remained visible in those beautiful eyes.

‘Oh for fuck sake, Regina! You’re drunk! I can’t believe you! Of course you wouldn’t… Oh, _man!_ You’re _drunk_ with the kid around and you didn’t even bother to call me?!’

‘Miss Swan! First of all, I am not inebriated. Not even in the slightest. As for the…’

But before she could assure Emma that she had meant to call, the woman had already exploded, the pain in her voice so raw, Regina realized this was not solely about this situation, but weighed much heavier on Emma’s mind.

‘First of all, _REGINA_ , could you speak English? For fuck sake, do you need to show your superiority in every freakin’ word? And second of all, you smell like a brewery!’

‘I… Emma…’

‘Yeah, yeah, I am sure you can drink both me and Leroy under the table, but that doesn’t mean you have to… Geez,  I should have known you’d never actually invite…’

‘Oh, no you don’t, Miss Swan. You don’t get to tell me what I would or would not ever do. You don’t get to _presume_ that you know me. That you know what I’m about… Yes, I did get a drink, but…’

It was the way the blonde shook her head, the narrowing of her eyes, that made the emotion in her chest flare up again. It hurt so much to be judged, once again poorly, once again wrongly accused. Never believed, never given the benefit of the doubt. It hurt, but she wasn’t even sure it wasn’t exactly what she deserved and that stung even more. The glimpse of the life, a happier one, with Henry and Emma loving her, have made her want to believe, want to hope, that maybe, somehow, she could be worthy. Worthy of her own happy ending. The emotions, still following each other in such painfully fast succession she could hardly keep up, raged through her. And instead of the sad hopelessness that filled her, she decided to focus on the anger she knew would mask her vulnerability.

‘I had no responsibilities, Miss Swan. I am no longer mayor and it seemed that I was no longer desired in the role as mother. Dear, let’s be honest, I am no longer desired in the role of anything. So, yes, I poured myself a drink, in a pathetic attempt to swallow this pathetic excuse of a life that was supposed to be my happy ending…’

Bitter was the sound and taste of the words she spat out. But Emma’s response came, as harsh and fierce as her own words.

‘Fuck, Regina, and you thought alcohol was going to solve anything? Fuck you, just… Fuck it! What if the kid had found you, passed out in your own puke, Regina? Or worse? If you wanted to drown your sorrow so completely… Jezus…’

There was something in Emma’s voice, guilt mixed with pain, a pain more raw than could be explained by mere imagination. It was the pain of memory, of experience, (and, dared she hope, worry?) that was visible in tense muscles. In tear-rimmed turquoise eyes.

‘Emma…’

‘No! You don’t know what it’s like, trying to make them stop saying or doing stuff to you, trying to add water to the gin to make it last longer and maybe have a little less effect. Make them presentable for when the caseworkers arrive…’

The anger in Emma’s voice had died down and Regina felt her heart pound vividly against her chest as she wanted to step in, now certain her earlier assessment had been right and suddenly also quite sure that her comfort would now not be rebuffed. But a hurt shout cut through the air, throwing her back with a force stronger than Magic.

‘Stop! Stop it! Stop screaming at my mom. I thought you said you were sorry! I thought you meant…’

‘Henry…’

She crouched by his side, but Emma pulled him away from her. Strange enough the protective movement lightened Regina’s heart instead of breaking it, the purity of Emma’s love for Henry singing through her veins and making her smile bittersweet.

‘Emma, I’m not drunk.’

‘Oh no? The broken glass on the floor, the cut on your hand and the smell surrounding you tell a different story.’

She had not even noticed the small trickle of blood that made its way down her wrist and she blinked when she saw its source, the slight, superficial cut of her hand she hadn’t even felt until it was pointed out to her. But that wound was not the one of importance now. Instinctively she knew, she saw the panic darkening the turquoise eyes, that _this_ was not against her, not even _about_ her. This was about wounds of the past. So she had to approach this gently in order to, slowly, lower the walls Emma had pulled up around her. She couldn’t help but smile, however, at the fact that the blonde had, despite her earlier words about not being his mother, pulled Henry into the stronghold with her.

With a careful gesture, in slow motion, she put up her hand as if she was under police surveillance, (which, technically she was), she moved to open her jacket, revealing the silk, drenched in apple cider, clinging onto her body.

‘I spilled it, Emma. I _did_ contemplate drinking, but before I even had a chance to take a sip, I… Something… Well… I spilled it. I promise you I would never do anything to endanger our son…’

Somehow _knowing_ Emma would need the physical proof, and oddly not at all _hurt_ by that fact, she felt a strong emotion course through her veins as she took a step closer. Love. Love for the woman who was now loosening her grip of fierce protection on the boy Regina would always love as her own, allowing him to slip away and latch onto his adoptive mother. Without thought, Regina wrapped one arm around him, squeezing him close as she took the last step in Emma’s direction, bridging the small distance between them.

Catching the soft face in her free hand, she pulled the woman closer, the strings of her heart plucked as she remembered many a desire to make just that gesture, although with a much different goal. She relished the soft sensation of Emma’s chin in her palm as she brought her mouth close to the blonde’s, parting her lips slightly as she hovered before her. She, however, didn’t attempt the kiss she had dreamed of, longed for. Now, after everything, all that was left for her to do was only allow the woman she desired to smell her breath.

‘I have _not_ been drinking.’

Her fingers trembled as she let go, the physical proximity having more effect on her than she had anticipated and she clung onto her son as she felt her own instability. Feeling terrible for having to lean on the young shoulders. But he held her hand, so kindly, it made her want to burst out in tears.

‘Oh… Shit, Regina, I’m sorry… Damn I really am acting like an a….’

‘Language, Miss Swan! I swear to the gods, at times it feels like I have two children instead of one!’

Henry giggled and the sound resonated through her abdomen, warming her from within as she looked down at him and ruffled his hair before cupping his cheek.

‘Right, yeah… I just… Ok, let me see if I can get this right: I sincerely apologize to you, Regina Mills, for assuming things I should not.’

 Even though it _should,_ the mocking, upperclass voice Emma used did not diminish the serious tone in the words. In the turquoise eyes that seemed to stare right through her very soul. And Regina knew the sincere apology counted for much more than the simple misinterpretation.

She tried to answer Emma’s tentative smile in kind, but found her mouth in reluctance to do her bidding. Because despite the fact that it was obvious the blonde was sorry, one thing had not changed.

Emma still didn’t want her. And Regina still wanted nothing more than the opposite to be true.

…

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my lovely fellow SQ fans, have faith in fate... Merry Christmas and thank you for taking this angsty ride with me!


	4. Winter's Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help coming from the most unexpected sources can have the most profound effect. The darkness is always darkest, right before light shines through!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ‘Enchanted Forest’ holiday mentioned in this chapter will be one to celebrate the ‘Breaking of Darkness’ AKA ‘Winter’s Break’, it is a holiday concerning the light to win after the day with the shortest amount of sunlight and was celebrated in TEF in any of the days following winter solstice. Snow chose to combine the event with Christmas by celebrating at midnight on Dec 24th.
> 
>  
> 
> The darkest darkness comes before the brightest light... Beware! 
> 
> Triggerwarning: Flashback of dark memories. Non graphic.

**Chapter 3 Winter’s Break**

 

 

Regina was glad with the condense covering the mirror as she stepped out of the shower and slid into the robe, the idea of looking herself in the eye not something she particularly cared for at this moment. It had taken some effort to convince Henry to go with Emma and invite (convince, really) the ‘gang’ (as Emma called them) to come and spend Christmas at the mansion. Some traditions had been brought over from the Enchanted Forest since the breaking of the curse, but since the last year Snow and Emma had been lost, trapped in the realm of Fairytales, they had not had a chance to celebrate their version of it before. A version, Regina had to say, she did not particularly care for, thanks to the memories it brought with it.

But then there had been the way Henry’s eyes had lit up when he had told her about the midnight feast of the celebration. She vaguely remembered Snow extending a careful invitation for the Winter’s Break/Christmas dinner, casually spoken at one of the off moments she failed in avoiding the woman. An invite which she, of course, had brushed off without even considering, telling herself she simply didn’t care for a repetition of the awkward welcome home dinner she had once attended. Strange enough the understanding in Snow’s eyes had caused her to recognize that as a blatant lie and wonder how on earth her former stepdaughter could possibly know the associations she had with the holiday of their old realm.

Now, however, she had forced herself in a position where she not only was forced to face spending the celebrations with those who saw her as the ‘Evil Queen’ but also the memories that always haunted her the days before Christmas. Putting the drenched silk blouse to soak, she tried to distract herself, going over the specifics Henry had entrusted her with. Luckily there were enough influences of  _this_  realm’s version of the December holiday to dilute the bitter memories.

She smiled now, remembering Henry’s enthusiasm, his assurance she could ‘use magic’ for her preparations (and, he had added, blushing and in a whisper, to fix the window he had broken) because Blue as well as Rumple had told him that, on this special day, it would come without a price (which she doubted, but since she was already paying she might as well, she had many a more mouth to feed than she had anticipated after all) his reluctance to leave her side. He loved her… Had faith in her. And that was the prize she had won.

And now she was going to save his Christmas for him.

Brushing her hair as she walked to her closet, trying to decide what to wear, Regina felt her mind drift to the person she did not want it to think of, but who she could not seem to repel from it. Because Emma, too, had seemed reluctant to leave, her eyes so open and vulnerable, the touch they had shared apparently unsettling for the blonde as well. The apology that had lain in the turquoise, the silent begging for… Not forgiveness, or understanding, but something Regina couldn’t quite grasp. A chance? Was that what Emma had wanted? What she had given up on, her eyes darkening, when Regina had curtly dismissed them and sent them to their task as she would clean herself up? Because something seemed to have been broken in the blonde, as she had left her porch and Regina couldn’t for the likes of her, grasp what that was about.

Luckily Henry seemed to have taken her few well chosen words to heart. He seemed to understand her explanation of Emma’s (and maybe her own) behavior that someone sometimes could be angry because of the memories one held in their hearts and words. That situations could remind them of the bad things that had happened in the past causing them to overreact. When she had caught turquoise eyes over his head, when he had allowed them both to hug him, a reminder of all the occasions in which they, or one of them, had saved their son, the connection between them had been so strong it was almost palpable. Emma had looked amazed that Regina had understood her actions so well, seemed to forgive her accusations so easily. But the look was also penetrative, as if the blonde knew there was more to her words than Regina let on. Before the Sheriff had had a chance to ask something, however, Regina had made sure to dismiss her.

Because where it had been easy for her to oversee, to  _understand_  the whole alcohol-debacle, the words she had overheard in the diner had left their own profound imprint in her damaged heart. There was no way, she knew, to misunderstand those words and no amount of understanding from her own part could diminish the pain they brought.

 As she pulled the dress out of its cover, she longed for the first time since she could remember for one of the outfits she’d used to wear when she had been Queen. They had been part of her role, part of her mask and would have allowed her to slip into the regal, untouchable demeanor she knew would help her broken heart now. Or maybe ‘help’  was the wrong verb in this occasion. Maybe ‘hide’ was. Maybe it always had been.

She had dressed on automatic pilot, she realized, as she studied herself in the mirror, careful not to meet her own eyes as she did, something she had become quite skilled at over the years. She contemplated once more to use the Magic Henry had allowed her to use to summon one of her old leather dresses, but the thought of the villagers (her son’s, why would she care about the others?) response if she would open the door dressed as the Evil Queen made her decide against it. The glimmering black dress that accentuated her curves would have to do. The confidence that, despite the fact no one would actually approach ‘The Evil Queen’ she could at the very least turn a few heads, maybe enough of a mask. Beauty was a weapon of intimidation in itself. At least that is what she had managed to make it, after it had become her downfall first. How many a time had she not wished to have been born an ugly duckling, because perhaps that then, after saving Snow, the proposal would never have come.

 

The words she had overheard, so many decades ago on this very day, contradicted that thought however, and while she closed her eyes in order to pull herself together, she could feel the flashback linger, ready to strike. The penetrating sound of the doorbell however, brought reprieve. Shaking her head, she hoped to rid herself of the sensation of impending doom, not entirely succeeding.

…

‘Snow…’

Her eyes narrowed as she acknowledged the woman in front of her, the careful smile on the thin lips one she associated more with Mary Margaret than with the Princess who had ruined her life. Maybe that made the gesture, to step back and welcome her into the house, easier, although she still felt the tension of her jaw and the trembling of her hands.

Granny and her granddaughter, a wolf-like grin painting her features as she slipped past her, were next, carrying an enormous amount of supplies.

‘Least we can do is help with the preparations.’

The older woman looked at her and shrugged, some of the kindness that had, once, existed between them visible in the wise eyes, audible in the words, almost breaking her. And then, as she, too, entered the house, the vision was revealed that made her press her lips together in an attempt not to burst out laughing.

Emma, adorned, reluctantly that much was obvious, with the typical red Santa-hat and her son, antlers attached to what seemed a diadem bouncing happily on his head. Her eyes must have betrayed her amusement, because Emma’s started to twinkle before she rolled hers and muttered something about contemplating killing her mother.

‘That is  _my_  line, Miss Swan…’

Her heart picked up a rapid pace when she saw Emma’s eyes linger on her figure before stepping inside, laughing at the words she had not meant to say. Her hands now trembled for a different reason and she held onto the door tight enough to make her knuckles white.

It was so easy to fall into the light banter she had grown accustomed to, and every time she did, her heart called her back, its stinging ache reminding her that all this was a lie. She felt the joy seep out of her eyes as the suffocating feeling found her chest and turned, swallowing, to follow the other women to the kitchen, but a hand enveloped her wrist and turned her around.

‘Hey kid, go help your Grandma, you know where everything is, right?’

He smiled broadly, his anger at his birthmother obviously forgotten as enthusiasm painted his face. And she saw his eyes dart happily to the place Emma’s hand connected with her wrist. So she forced a smile upon her face, using her free hand to caress his shoulder as he passed her. The moment he was out of view however she pulled her hand out of the delicious prison it had been captured in.

‘Regina…’

Hoarse, filled with something she easily could have mistaken for desire has she not known any better, was the sound of Emma’s voice.

‘Regina, let me explain… Please…’

‘I thought I was clear, Miss Swan, when I said I did not wish to discuss this.’

The hand, only moments before around her wrist where she could still feel its warmth made its way to blonde locks, but the ridiculous red hat prevented Emma to make the characteristic gesture of running her fingers through her hair.

‘I didn’t mean it, Rubes was just… Hell, she was just bothering…’

‘Miss Swan, do I not speak English? Or perhaps, and much more likely, you do not understand said language? Because I believe I recall that I told you I do not care for this discussion. Yet here you are, not only disrespecting any wish I could possibly have, which shouldn’t surprise me considering your genetics, but also cowering behind your best friend. Selfishness and cowardice. Two things, Sheriff, I can’t say I particularly care for in a person, nor very, how would  _you_  say it? “Christmassy”. Now if you’ll excuse me…’

She trembled when she arrived to the kitchen and managed to avoid her son’s eyes, as the boy was enthusiastically explaining Red how the pasta maker worked. Leaning against the sink, she found she was not so lucky, however, with another person.

‘Are you ok?’

The question was asked softly, gently, not probing but genuine as a caring caress. The person asking however was not,  _never_ , supposed to make her feel like that.

‘Of course I am, Snow, why wouldn’t I be?’

She tried to make it sound haughty and only when she heard herself speak did she realize how utterly she had failed. She saw Snow exchange a glance with someone behind her, but didn’t bother to look back and see who it was. It felt like the world was closing in on her, blackness entering her peripheral view as she leaned heavily on the marble.

 ‘Henry, sweety, why don’t you and Red take Granny to pick up the cranberries? I completely forgot them at the apartment.’

The noises around her only partly made their way into her mind until she latched onto one. A rhythmic combination of syllables that seemed familiar…

‘Regina?’

‘Don’t!’

She had seen the hesitant hand approach from the corner of her eye and pushed up her hands in an instinctive defensive movement, taking a step back. She could only hope enough time had passed for Henry to actually leave and not see her weakness as she felt herself slump against the counter, the flashback hitting her, unbidden and unyielding.

*****************SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ*******************

_The sense of freedom riding always gave her still coursed through her veins as she entered the palace halls, her prison, once more. She recognized his footsteps, the rhythm and impact of them on the floor, -on her heart- all too familiar since that first night he had approached her bed. She had, in weakness, in instinct, pressed herself against the wall, wishing to disappear into the dark shadows as he passed with one of his guards._

_‘Well, let’s be honest here… She is nothing more than a pretty little foal, I’ll have to teach her… Break her in… But if that is the price I have to pay to give my dear Snow the mother that she wants, I am very willing to…’_

_His long strides already carried him passed her before he finished the sentence. But his rough laughter had rang through her long after he was gone, as she stood there, still pressed against the cold castle wall until the young girl who had condemned her to this life, found her._

******************SQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ*******************

A wet cloth had found its way, somehow, to her forehead and Regina hardly needed to open her eyes to know who the soft hands, caring for her, belonged to. They had once before nursed her back to health, but if she had wanted to blame her disguise for their gentleness, back then, now she’d have to face the truth. The woman simply was  _that_  good… It made her physically ill. Or maybe the visions that had forced themselves on her had caused that. She heard a moan and it took her a while to realize the pitiful whimper came from herself. Tears wet her cheeks as she pushed herself up and away from caring gestures, surprised at the softness of the surface her hands embarked on.

Taking in her surroundings, the question that immediately arose (how she had gotten from the kitchen to the living room couch) was immediately answered by the awkward pose of the sheriff, standing next to her mother.

_The savior yet again… How positively wonderful._

She ignored the dizziness as she sat up, but embarrassingly had to grasp the arm that was extended to her aid for support as the heaviness in her head and neck started to pulsate in a nauseating ache. She almost pulled back in alarm when she felt the tingling sensation of Emma’s touch, however, having expected that Rainbow-sticker-loving never-faltering optimist of a Snow. Their eyes caught and for a moment Regina felt lost in the turquoise…

It was odd, the swirling color of Emma’s eyes. She had never noticed it when they had first met, until a dream, first of the many she had woken up from sweaty and entangled in the sheets, desire throbbing between her legs, had made her aware of it. And still, only when their eyes truly met, the mesmerizing color presented itself to her, so pure, so beautiful, it made her almost forget to breathe. It was as if it enveloped her. Not only the color, but the look, the soul that was behind the savior’s eyes, and she felt warm, a tingling sensation making its way to her abdomen.

Remembering herself, she cleared her throat and let go, her hand now cautiously reaching up to her forehead where the sickening pain radiated from, only to be caught by Emma’s the moment her fingertips grazed skin.

‘Woaaa, hold on there. Let’s wait for Whale, ok?’

The snark on the tip of her tongue slid into her subconscious as she saw the drops of blood on her fingertips and she felt her eyes widen.

‘Henry?’

‘I told Granny to keep him occupied, they are preparing some things at the apartment, don’t worry.’

Gratitude towards Snow, she had never thought she’d live to see the day… But when she opened her mouth to, sourly but surely, utter words of thanks, the woman had already closed her eyes shortly and shook her head, dismissing them.

She now felt the steady, warm and sticky trickle of blood down her forehead, as Emma, who had remained crouched before her reached up with a cloth and dabbed it up for her. The sharp inhalation of air was not something she could suppress, neither was the feeling that caused it. The raw arousal, so strong she could taste it on her tongue while it raged through her, made her hands tremble, her mouth dry and her heart yearn. Cursing the forceful bodily reaction, praying to whatever gods may listen that the darkness of the dress would not reveal the more obvious one (or two), she still could not help but stare at the lips, so close to hers. But then, as the doorbell seeped through her preoccupied brain in slow motion, it were the footsteps that made her remember. She felt herself turn pale, the flashback still hovering, ready to attack as the memories of her past and of the woman before her overlapped, the similarity of the words used clear to her only now.

When the blackness returned, she welcomed it.

…

‘If she fainted without cause, I’ll have to do some tests, it’s protocol and…’

She wanted nothing more than to tell him what he could do with his protocol, but the heaviness of her tongue, not willing to do her bidding, prevented her to do so. It was surprising (which maybe it should not have been) however that her sentiments were uttered nonetheless, although without doubt in a more coarse language than she herself had ever chosen. Opening her eyes slightly she saw Snow suppress a smile at her daughter’s antics, looking semi-apologetic at the doctor who was on the receiving end of the blonde’s rant. The throbbing of her head had turned dull and she could feel the stretching of her skin, indicating she had been sutured. Luckily the wound had been in her hairline, so the inevitable scar the quack must have left, would not be too visible.

‘There _was_  a cause.’

The softly spoken words interrupted Emma’s harsh monologue and Regina felt her eyes shoot, now fully, open.

‘There was a cause. You won’t need tests. Just… Trust me.’

It was her royal blood, perhaps, her reign too short, Regina knew, for the stance, the tone of voice to come from practice. Maybe Snow indeed was born to lead. Or maybe she had learned to in the woods or during the war. Or could it be that the woman was using the best of both the Princess, the Outlaw and the Schoolteacher she had been in her life. Whatever it was, there was something so utterly regal in her kindness, that she saw Whale didn’t even contemplate going against the woman who had once been his volunteer.

 ‘Thank you kindly for your time, Dr. Whale. Please do join us for dinner later on.’

It was the fire in turquoise eyes bringing back Emma’s earlier words on how the physician had treated her in the hopital, that made Regina want to sit up and withdraw the invitation. She had, indeed, agreed to host Emma’s family and friends, but Whale seemed neither, nor was she herself very fond of him. But before she could get her body to do her bidding the doctor had already declined the invitation and stormed out of the room. Most likely off to check his beloved protocol once more.

She rolled the eyes she had just opened, but the movement didn’t come as easily as it usually did and she almost groaned  as she slowly sat up.

‘Cause?’

Emma’s voice was soft and hoarse as she spoke the one-worded question.

‘Emma…’

It sounded like a warning and so motherly Regina couldn’t help but smirk.

‘I just… Did you just make something up for Whale’s sake or…’

Emma glanced back and caught her eyes, making her own turquoise ones widen, but Regina had already opened her mouth to make her presence known before Snow could (Could she, really? Did she know?)  spill another one of her secrets.

‘I`d like to know the answer to that as well, dear.’

The little jump Snow turned around with would have been amusing, had it not been laced with the painfully sympathetic look in her direction.

‘Regina!’

She quirked an eyebrow as in question and the woman grimaced, looking down shortly before meeting her eyes again.

‘You’ve always been sick at Winter’s Break, Regina… For as far as I can remember. I think, here in Storybrooke, it’s been less but… After the first year, in the palace, you always were sick. I’ve only put it together later in life, figured it out…’

Her mouth had gone dry and she knew she must have turned pale again but for once, she did not care about appearance.

‘You know  _nothing.’_

‘Every year, Regina! Maybe you should talk about it, if you just… Just throw it out. Maybe it will help?’

‘Of course, there are the rainbow-kisses and unicorn-stickers once more, making everything better! Just throw some sunshine on it and add a little fairy-dust, dear, and all will be fine. Maybe, dear Snow, it is time you grew up and learned life does not work that way!’

‘ You married Father around Winter’s Break, didn’t you? It must have been around that time he died, yes? Dan…’

‘Don’t you speak his name! Don’t you  _dare_  speak his name!’

She had gotten up, rage strengthening her and, ignoring the slight dizziness pressed herself close to the pixie-haired woman’s face.

‘I…’

‘It’s always the same, Snow… You think you know everything. Daniel didn’t  _die_. He was  _murdered_  because you couldn’t keep a secret. Or, maybe, he was simply murdered because he loved  _me._  Someone unworthy of such emotion. But that’s not the association I have with Winter’s Break…’

Talking about Daniel had brought the tears back and they slid down her cheeks without her even attempting to stop the flow. It was so useless. So utterly useless to keep on hiding. To keep on trying to be good. To keep on being hurt, time and time again.

Her anger simmered, but she suppressed it, the thought of Henry entering her mind. Snow was her self-righteous goody-two-shoes self, but the years in this realm had taught Regina something as well. Sometimes anger and revenge, just weren’t worth it. She turned, ready to let the issue go when the woman spoke again.

‘Well, I’m pretty sure there is  _something_ , Regina… People don’t just faint and go rigid for nothing. People don’t just…’

‘Mom!’

Emma’s warning came too late, because Regina had already shifted, the agonizing pain in her heart found its way out of her body in the only way it knew how. Magic. Dark purple spirals of smoke surrounded them before vanishing as quickly as they had been conjured.

‘Oh you’re  _pretty sure_ , are you now, dear? Do you want to know, Snow? Do you want to know why I hate Winter’s Break? Why I can’t stand the idea of celebrating it? Do you?’

Pale but determined the woman before her stood her ground and nodded, only feeding the emotion coiling within her. There was anger and hatred and despair and disgust, fighting like a bound animal would for freedom.

‘That’s because it wasn’t just Winter breaking that first year, Snow. It was  _me_. He broke me. That was  _his_  celebration, ‘breaking me in’ as he called it. Do you care for the details? The specifics of the price he said he had to pay to make me an obedient wife? A good mother for his  _dear, little_ Snow?’

She screamed the words now, spat them out as if they were some putrefied dish her body wanted to expulse. But as she saw the face before her change, crease into the pain she had meant to induce, she felt it hit her instantly, enveloping her heart like a cold, cold hand.

Regret.

She stepped back and instinctively reached out for the unbalanced woman before her, who indeed stumbled and grasped her forearm. The touch somehow dissipated the last sliver of anger, brought her an insight she couldn’t quite grasp. She saw in her mind eye the face of the girl she had once saved, so naïve, so happy, so loving. So trusting.

‘I’m sorry, Snow.’

The words slipped passed her lips, but the moment she did she knew she meant them. This had always been  _her_  burden, and she had never intended to make it Snow’s.

‘No!’

The woman spoke the word sharp and Regina knew what was coming the moment she looked into the hazel again. It was the strangest thing to know, to physically feel, she didn’t need it anymore. The thing she had looked for, thought to have longed for, thought she had needed to make things right for so long.

‘I am the one who is sorry, Regina.’

And there, as she stood, facing the woman who had once been her stepdaughter, clutching onto her, she knew. She saw the truth of it etched in the stricken features, felt it seep into her veins and be carried to her heart. And maybe just because it came at the moment she had realized she didn’t  _need_  it, it meant all the more. She squeezed Snow’s arm, gently and smiled the first genuine smile she had shown the other woman since she had been a little girl.

‘Maybe we both can be…’

The words exited her mouth before she could reprimand herself (something with rainbows and unicorns would come to mind yet again, perhaps the pixie-haired woman was rubbing off on her.) But the scowl she wanted to follow up with, erecting the walls around her heart, got stuck in her throat as she saw the woman before her swallow and returning her smile with a careful, but genuine one of her own.

Maybe there was no need for her Evil Queen mask today. Maybe, this Christmas, she could just be Regina.

…

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be called: The Gift of Hope (and yes, you may take that last word to heart ;) Would love to read your thoughts?


	5. The Gift of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina has a change of heart after she makes an observation that causes it to ache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kudo's and reviews! They mean so much... *blush* One more chapter after this one! (at least that's the plan ;))

 

**Chapter 4: The Gift of Hope**

Magic  _did_  make the preparations easier, but cooking for the amount of people Snow White had invited for her Christmas-celebration was still quite a challenge.  And there was the fact that sometimes dizziness overwhelmed her, and she felt her Magic drain her more quickly than she was used to (but then again, it  _did_  work differently in this realm, after all.).

It was Emma, who had, once again, surprised her. Where the blonde was no help, what so ever, when it came to cooking, she had proven herself very useful in other ways. She had successfully convinced Henry to rest up before the festivities would start, had found a way to, almost unseen, clean up all the utensils right after they had been used and when someone mentioned a missing ingredient it, almost magically, appeared beside them just a moment later.  And, when Regina had felt a spell of vertigo once more, after expanding the table with an enchantment she wouldn’t even have had to flick her wrist for in the Enchanted forest, the blond had simply caught her upper arm, in quite the same manner she once had when trying to manage Jefferson’s hat and she had felt energy, Magic and something so strong she didn’t dare name it course through her. Even now, long after Emma had, quickly, let go again at her surprised glance backward, she could still feel the tingling of her skin, which made her, if she was honest, want to curl into the blonde, latch onto her and never let go.

_Pathetic._

She found herself staring, on occasion, (if every few minutes, the only amount of time she could convince herself to look away, counted as ‘on occasion’) the uneasy feeling increasing in intensity at the woman’s unusual quiet behavior, until it hit her with devastating force.

She excused herself to check on Henry, when the shaking of her hands almost caused her to cut herself instead of the vegetables, and she felt the lump lodge itself tighter in her throat as her hand found the railing of the stairs, holding on so tightly it made her knuckles white. Over the last few months, so much had changed and only now Regina realized how much she loved the moments when Emma had made her way into her living room, let herself fall on the couch and ruffle their son’s hair. No matter how much she had protested against the woman’s antics, she realized the blonde had been acting as if she was  _home_. As if she belonged. And only  _now_  she saw, she  _understood_ , that that was not something Emma Swan did. Ever.

She saw so clearly now, how it must have been for a little girl in the system, trying to remain invisible, never feeling as if she deserved to be part of anything and so grateful when being tolerated. They suffocated her, the tears lodged in her throat, as she remembered Emma’s words regarding Whale’s behavior, small remarks the woman had made earlier only now making sense, about being the savior, about feeling unworthy… She was obviously trying now, to make herself deserve to be part of the celebration in such a quiet way that it hit Regina over the head with a raw understanding that seemed to grow with every step she took.

By the time she had reached the top of the stairs she knew that, even if a big part of it had been a lie, she wanted it back, the feeling it gave her when Emma Swan made her house into a home (for all of them, she had to admit). The yearning clawed at her heart, searching for a way in she couldn’t deny it. No matter if, for now,  _she_  was the one merely tolerated, Henry wasn’t and the two obviously made each other happy. Her goal had always been Henry’s happiness. And now that she felt the heaviness in her chest, seeing Emma fight so hard, work so hard, to remain invisible enough to stay for Christmas, she thought maybe she wanted to fight for Emma’s as well.

Yes, the woman’s words had hurt her. But just as the blonde had responded harshly when it came to alcohol because of her past, Regina wondered now how much her own baggage had to do with her fierce reaction. Of course her feelings, running deeper even than she had initially thought, for her son’s birthmother made the hurtful words heartbreaking. But Emma did not, could not possibly, know about those.

She thought about the interactions, the small things she now didn’t dare to hope had really changed… But if she looked at the way Emma behaved now, she knew they must have, part of it must have been true. And maybe, just maybe, she could, one day, play a bigger, different part in the blonde savior’s life than the price to be paid for happiness. Maybe she could add to it by being a friend, a person who understood, a place to run to when in need to hide.

It was a terrifying thought that made her shiver, but the empty look in the Sheriff’s eyes haunted her every step, every thought. So when she approached her son, waking him up gently at exactly the time she heard the first guests arrive downstairs and saw his sleepy eyes smile at her, she smiled back and took a decision.

Leaving him to get dressed, she found her way to her study and unlocked the top drawer, taking the adorned box out of its hiding place. And when she stood there, staring at it, she knew.

It was time to leave the past exactly where it belonged. Because all the things she had held onto for so long and much too strongly, had only had the result that she had lost or pushed away everyone she had ever loved.

It was time for her to take a chance, not by holding on, but by letting go.

The emotion, so unfamiliar, rushing through her was almost more terrifying than that thought, but she couldn’t stop it even if she had tried. It was strong, finding its way through the creaks and broken pieces of her heart, like a ray of light, warming the damaged organ. It was crushing because the chance the wishes it provoked would ever be fulfilled were slim to none.

She heard a stern voice inside her say those things, warn her, while her eyes were still glued to the package in her hands.

And still, she couldn’t stop it.

A smile crept up to her face as she shook her head, fingers finding their way up to the place where her heart pounded with the emotion filling it.

It really was a powerful, powerful thing.

Hope.

…

She nervously smoothed down the non-existing creases of the red dress she had changed into, after her forehead’s ordeal with the kitchen counter had left blood on her earlier outfit. She looked down at her hands and caught them in the useless movement, once again wondering why she had chosen the garment and trying to come up with a different reason she had the previous times, failing yet again. The color reminded her terribly much of that of a certain leather jacket.

The buzzing sound of multiple voices her house had never heard before, unnerved her, but not in an entirely unpleasant way and she held on a little tighter to the package in her hand when she pushed the door open.

‘Regina!’

The enthusiasm in the voice was oddly genuine, and it felt so long ago that someone had been this glad to see her, Regina had to blink away a tear, as she hid in Katherine’s embrace. Or, technically, she should call her Abigail now.

‘I love your decorations! Gods, look what you’ve done with the place… I bet Henry made this?’

And when she suddenly she saw what Katherine was doing, easing her into the crowd, distracting her and not allowing her to even glance the faces that would have scowls or frowns, allowing her to show a mellow side of herself and make everything flow more easily, she expected to feel resentment. But when she looked at the woman who had been a friend to her. Who  _was_  being a friend to her now, despite everything, she didn’t find anything else then a gentle warmth. She was moved because she knew Abigail was not (only) doing this to make the people around them more comfortable, she was doing it for her… And that was more than anyone had done for her in a long time.

She heard how the rhythm, the melody of the conversation around them changed as she answered her friend and the realization hit almost instantly. The more she herself relaxed, the more the people around her did. As they moved to the crowd, she was thanked for her hospitality (by some more reluctant than by others, but Leroy would always be… well… Grumpy.),  complimented on the small , personal, tokens of appreciation that had been left out for each of the guests (Snow’s idea, who she immediately gave the credit) and, even, oddly, she herself was praised, from her appearance to her ‘generosity and kindness’ (Nova sure was quite the opposite of Leroy, but when the eyes of those two met, she saw the attraction leap and spark between them, stronger than any other Magic she knew of). They had reached the other side of the room in less time than she had anticipated and Katherine squeezed her arm kindly when she rejoined her husband at the same moment a small version of a young man wrapped himself around her waist.

‘Mom! You look beautiful! Will you help me with my tie? Please? I can’t seem to get it right?’

He tugged it to emphasize his words and she smiled as she placed the package on the side of the table before crouching down and fixing it for him, her fingers going through the motions automatically but her heart taking in every second of the moment as she wondered how it was possible he was growing up so fast. He smiled at her, his lopsided grin of gratitude,  _so much of Emma in his face¸_  meaning more to her than any of the words just spoken to her.

‘Thanks, Mom!’

He hugged her quickly and enthusiastically, but when he pulled back she held him close to her for just a little longer, whispering part of her plan in his ear, reminding him of an earlier conversation they had had. His eyes twinkled as he whooped his agreement, the tight arms around her necks almost suffocating her, but in the best possible way.

‘I love you, Mom, you really… You really did it!’

She must have looked confused, because he laughed before explaining, looking around, beaming.

‘You really  _did_  save Christmas…’

The restricting band around her chest his hug had caused seemed to tighten as she gently caressed his cheek, hoping to show him how much him saying that meant to her with the gesture, because words were lost to her.

 She placed her hands on her knees and pushed herself up, but what should have been a graceful movement was compromised by the balance-problem her high heels and emotions provided.

And when two hands upon her shoulders steadied her, the jolt the contact brought immediately identified her savior. The uncharacteristic and nervous giggle jittered through her abdomen as she turned to meet the eyes of the only woman who would even be able to elicit such a strong reaction in her. But even though she had anticipated the beautiful blonde, she had not anticipated  _this._

Emma’s change of outfit somehow made her look…  _changed_.

_Obviously, very observant, Regina._

Trying to mentally reprimand herself and keep her eyes from staring, she realized she had never seen the woman in a dress before. Legs, endless and subtly toned, slipped through the enticing slit of a long, satin, dark blue dress. The color was in perfect contrast to the woman’s loose golden curls, which, where they met the soft-looking fabric, lit up and sparkled like stars would in a Winter’s sky. The dress was perfect, but it was the woman wearing it, taking Regina’s breath away.

‘Sorry, Katherine was already over there, so… Yeah…’

The shrug should have been in total contrast with the blonde’s sophisticated look and should appall her. It should not, absolutely  _not,_ cause this swirling sensation in the pit of her stomach or the deep yearning to reach out and caress the jealous (could it really be? But for the sake gods, why?) creases out of the saviors features.

She simply stood there, taking the other woman in, thinking it could be good to say something…

_Anything…_

**_Now_ ** _would be good…_

But she was not even able to utter the moan that was stuck in her throat. One would think the tight jeans Emma frequently wore would not do so much to hide the woman’s curves, but they had. Gods, they had.

Only when she felt the tingling of her skin where soft hands had only moments before touched her, did she realize the blonde had turned and made to walk in the direction of her mother, who was admiring Henry’s outfit. As she caught her son’s eyes he smiled and gave her the thumbs up along with the courage she needed to reach out.

Her fingers enveloped Emma’s wrist, which was far more delicate than one would expect for such a strong woman and she pulled the blonde back.

‘Emma…’

Her voice sounded hoarse and when the sheriff, amazed, looked down at the place her fingers met the woman’s skin the former mayor’s gaze followed. Regina let go instantly, as if burned, the slight lilac hue still visible on her palm as she hid the offensive, betraying body part behind her back, hoping her Magic would not incinerate the carefully wrapped gift.

‘I… I have something for you.’

Gods, this was hard… And not only for what she was about to do. She knew it was the right thing, she had known when she had first seen the glint of careful hope in Henry’s eyes, when she had mentioned it to him, promising him to look into it. But because of the rapid pounding of her heart, the sweaty hands and the raw feeling of being exposed. Something she never allowed herself to be.

Emma looked at the package she held out as if it was a bomb that needed to be detonated and the unfamiliar vulnerability and years of practice made the words slip out of Regina’s mouth as she pushed it in the blonde’s hands, ready to make a hasty exit.

‘Don’t worry, dear, it’s not an apple-cobbler.’

But before she had even taken as much as 3 steps she heard the words that explained the blonde’s behavior in a heartbreaking way.

‘Wait, Regina… It’s just… I just never had one before.’

She swirled around and caught how a pixie-haired woman, who was coming up behind her daughter, brought her hands up to her chest in shock at hearing the words. The pain she felt was visible in the fine but broken features and in the tear that slid down Snow’s face as she heard Emma’s soft confession. Regina had to swallow herself and the air was thick with emotion as more of the guests approached, making Emma blink self-consciously. This amazing woman who had never held a Christmas present, who could slay dragons but had trouble finding words to tell her son how she felt about him. This savior who had survived the battles of the system but had never won the war, hurt and broken and still a hero in her heart, in a fire, against a wraith. This lovable, brave idiot now looked at her, the impact of the words she had spoken lingering heavily around her, in alarm but also in request.

‘Well, dear, then let me inform you. When one receives a present, it is custom to  _open_  it.’

A grateful look was shot in her direction instantly and Emma’s genuine laughter drowned any possible other reaction to the strategically placed, sarcastic remark, the teasing tone closer to the one she had recently wielded in the blonde’s company than the spiteful one that had always been her mask to hide behind.  The laugh, however, sounded slightly off and Emma’s hands trembled as she carefully untied the ribbon and parted the paper, careful not to rip it. When Regina had carefully prepared the present, she had imagined Emma tearing off the wrappings in the same fashion as their son would, eager to find what was inside. But to the blonde, whose fingertips grazed over the box she had revealed, the idea of the gift itself, without knowing the contents, already seemed to be the prize.

Regina’s heart beat with a dull ache at that realization and its rhythm increased when the savior lifted to lid of the box, revealing a leather bound book. She took a few steps back, making use of the distraction of the reveal and found balance with her back against the post of the door, watching the blonde intently as she allowed her fingers to follow the all too familiar letters.

‘Once Upon a Time…’

Emma held her breath as she opened it and Regina saw the smile appear. A gasp of surprise rippled through the onlookers but Regina only had attention for that smile that broke through tears in turquoise eyes, finding the picture of her son when he had been 3 weeks old. The smile that spoke of pain and regret and hope and…  _love_. The smile she wanted to always make appear, for the rest of her days, if it was the last thing she did. Henry beamed as he held his blonde mother’s waist, looking from the album to his birthmother to her and she closed her eyes slowly to acknowledge him, not daring to attempt a smile, fearing that her last resolve would break if she did. The sheriff did not seem to have her reservations, tears streamed over the blonde’s cheeks as her watery, shining eyes met Regina’s. They seemed darker than their usual turquoise and beckoned, urging her closer, taking her breath away with every passing second.

She averted her eyes, her own emotions too close to the surface to even contemplate giving in to the silent plea. She did not want this to be about her. She didn’t want Emma’s gratitude.

What she really wanted could not be accomplished by the simple act of gift-giving and, most likely, would never be within her reach.

A part of her, a small voice in the back of her head, told her that she was wrong. That it had been in those deep blue eyes looking at her only moments before. That it was in their every touch, evoking Magic. That had been in every gaze, in every word, in every action, hidden. Yet, as much as she wanted to listen to her hope, the memory of the things she had overheard at the diner told her the truth.

She might not want Emma’s gratitude, she might settle and fight for Emma’s friendship, but what she really wanted, she would never have.

Emma Swan’s love.

…

When Emma lifted the photo album out of the box to take a better look, Regina felt her heart stop. She did not have Rumple’s foreseeing ability and yet it felt like she knew what was going to happen before it actually did. The paper slid, as in slow motion, out of the sheets they had been caught between and spiraled down much as a tree’s leaf would in autumn. When Snow reached down to pick it up, she wanted to speak up, wanted to step in and snatch the paper out of those hands but she stood stock-still, her ability to move compromised by the emotions running wild, like fire, in her heart.

Snow’s teary eyes found her, effortless, and for the shortest moment she could have sworn to see turquoise flicker in them as they softened.

‘Oh, Regina…’

Her former nemesis’ (Regina didn’t take the time to ponder that second word) voice was soft and kind and filled with all the twirling emotions she felt herself, but Regina only could look at Emma, whose eyes had fallen on the paper in her mother’s hand.

A paleness took root in the beautiful features as she plucked the shared-custody agreement from Mary Margaret hands, for a split second only looking at the legal document, baffled, before her head shot up and her eyes found Regina’s. Time seemed to slow as they stared at each other and then it sped up when she saw determination flicker in those mesmerizing, turquoise orbs.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed, Emma was in front of her and glanced up. From her peripheral view Regina could just make out the branch of mistletoe she had been unaware of until that very moment. Just as she tried to brace herself for another one of the saviors lingering kisses, like the one she had received on her cheek in gratitude, she felt the hand find the back of her neck, the fingers entwining in her hair as if they had found their home.

 And then, lips crashed against hers in a tenderness that should not be evident in such a violent movement.

Their lips broke away from each other only slightly, never truly losing contact, and met again almost instantly, when she felt the rush of Magic surrounding them, pushing them together. It was like everything else disappeared and just the two of them existed. The initial aggression of Emma’s action was nowhere to be found when the blonde’s soft fingertips grazed her face, pulling her closer. A warm palm merged with the skin of her cheek, a surprisingly soft callused thumb caressing the line of her jaw. The tip of Emma’s tongue brushed against her lips almost lazily and they parted as if on demand, in surprise or eagerness, she couldn’t say, but the attack on her senses brought a dizziness that made her grateful for the sheriff’s strong arms around her.

Regina sank against the blonde and into the kiss, feeling the rapid heartbeat of the savior in sync with her own as she carefully placed her palm on Emma’s chest, allowing her own tongue to find its match in a careful exploration. She felt a moan vibrate through her, not sure if it was her own or the other woman’s, but then again, she was no longer certain where she ended and Emma started.

It was the wolf-whistle, which brought her to her senses and she stepped back, blinking. Away from Emma’s arms, away from the lips that had, in that one too-short moment, taken away any fear she had ever had. But now as she heard the responses around her, they all came rushing back in an ice cold fierceness that took her breath away.

She could not even finish the thoughts that ran through her mind, as her eyes stayed linked with the turquoise ones before her, but she felt them, rather than rationalized them.

This kiss, this amazing, heart-stopping moment was for the blonde a ‘Thank you’. A highly inappropriate, impulsive way to express the emotions that must have been running high ever since Emma had held the gift in her hand. A price, she knew, repeating the overheard words once again, mentally. A price paid out of gratitude.

She tried, very hard, to pull up the mask of the Evil Queen, to find a way to make the realization hurt less, to say something sarcastic, something spiteful, when a word seeped through the sadness enveloping her heart.

‘Finally!’

 It came from two directions, when she looked around for the sources she saw several expressions seemingly sharing that sentiment. Katherine beamed at her and winked, having been the lawyer who had drawn up the contract that had elicited Miss Swan’s Public Display of…  _Well, not affection…_  Appreciation.  But the other woman who had spoken the word far more enthusiastically, literally whooping to make her point come across was one she had never expected. At least not since she had heard her call Emma out on wanting to spend time with ‘The Evil Queen’ for Christmas.

‘Finally?’

The question fell from her lips at the same time Charming’s fell from his and she heard their voices merge much like the purple strings she still felt radiating from her heart did with Emma’s rawer, more rudimentary Magic.

‘Of course! It was long time coming! I mean it’s obvious that Em…’

‘Rubes!’

Emma’s voice was panicked and harsh and cut through the atmosphere like the sword the savior liked to wield. Her senses brought information to her brain she did not seem able to process. She saw Snow place a calming hand on David’s arm, the other caressing the worried creases from his forehead as she muttered something to him about true love. She saw Nova beam and stand tall while the Blue Fairy reprimanded her on the unlisted use of mistletoe while decorating. She saw Henry, not even half as confused as she herself felt, and he smiled and shrugged as she caught his eyes. And then, when her eyes found the blonde again, the whirlwind of emotions inside her exploded. She couldn’t get herself to look for the turquoise, couldn’t face the rising of false hope again, her heart telling her things her mind knew would never be true.

The muttering around her reminded her of her heightened senses when she had been blindfolded once, awaiting the arrow that would end her life but also her misery. She had been stronger then, still willing to go with her head held high, but now she simply looked down and turned. The tear that had escaped her eye meandering down her cheek and finding the floor, shattering to never be the same again, reminded her of herself. But she was not sure if it was hatred or love that had caused her to break, then or now.

She heard the sound of her heels on the floor echo through the silence that followed, increasing in pace as she fought to reach solitude before she would make even more a fool out of herself than she already had. Than she already  _was_.

Leaning against the counter she had earlier injured her head against, she inhaled shivery and couldn’t stop the tears from falling when she relived the moment of the kiss. Her fingertips found her lips, which tingled at the memory of the tender touch she would never forget. Yes, she had been kissed before. Had been kissed out of duty, had even been kissed out of love. Then why did this kiss, which so obviously fitted in the first category, had made her feel so much? Had made her feel so…  _Loved?_

Because she craved it? Because the thought of Emma Swan coming home to her every day, sweeping her of her feet in affection like  _that_ was something she would always scowl at, but secretly relish? Because the last couple of weeks (months, years?) she had built a life, a fantasy, a dream in her head that would never come true?

How could she be so stupid? 

Her hands found the first thing in their reach and she hurled the bottle of wine away in a violent movement, only just missing the woman occupying her mind (and heart), when it shattered against the wall.

* * *

TBC

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so curious about your thoughts!?


	6. The admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words overheard can be tainted by ones own history. Can Emma mend some of what has been broken? And can she break the wall Regina has build around her heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A-N: Thank you all so much for your support! SQ fandom rules! Can't wait to find out what you think about this finale... Happy holidays!

**_Before in ‘The gift of Hope’_ **

_Yes, she had been kissed before. Had been kissed out of duty, had even been kissed out of love. Then why did this kiss, which so obviously fitted in the first category, had made her feel so much? Had made her feel so… Loved?_

_Because she craved it? Because the thought of Emma Swan coming home to her every day, sweeping her of her feet in affection like that was something she would always scowl at, but secretly relish? Because the last couple of weeks (months, years?) she had built a life, a fantasy, a dream in her head that would never come true?_

_How could she be so stupid?_

_Her hands found the first thing in their reach and she hurled the bottle of wine away in a violent movement, only just missing the woman occupying her mind (and heart), when it shattered against the wall._

**Chapter 5: The admission.**

 

‘Fuck, Regina!’

‘Also in front of an audience, dear?’

The tone in her voice was the perfect mix between aloofness and sarcasm and she saw Emma cringe and turn around rapidly. But instead of leaving, which Regina had thought and, she tried to convince herself,  _hoped_  the woman simply flicked her wrist and locked the door with a rush of blue Magic, causing Regina’s eyebrow to raise.

‘I’ve been practicing…’

‘So you have…’

_And not just Magic…_

‘Regina…’

It sounded almost like a warning, exasperated, but at the same time it felt like a hopeful begging, making her heart feel like it wanted to burst out of her chest and make its way towards the savior.

She wanted to say the woman’s name, wanted to reach out and check on her, wanted to find her way into those arms and allow her lips another kiss.

‘I’m sorry…’

_There it was._

She braced herself for the apology, the explanation that the other woman had got carried away and tried to conjure up a plausible response. For she might have  _been kissed_ , Emma could not have a doubt in her mind she had  _kissed back._

So how was she going to respond?

_Don’t worry about it, Miss Swan, I am quite used to being assaulted in the middle of my living room._

Or

_I am aware of that but please do it again?_

Her mouth chose for her, the treacherous words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

‘For what, Miss Swan?’

The blonde blinked, obviously not having expected the question.

‘For… erm… Kissing you like that?’

The woman seemed unsure about the correctness of her answer, which took away some of the sting that came with it. The icy feeling that constricted her throat, however, was not one Regina seemed able to swallow.

‘Then why did you?’

_Oh for the sake of the gods, was she enjoying to let her heart be trampled on?_

‘I…’

Suddenly knowing she would be unable to face the inevitable pain the answer would bring, Regina looked away, pressing her trembling hands behind her against the cool surface of the counter and urged herself to interrupt the stammering savior.

‘Just to inform you, Miss Swan, it was without charge…’

‘What?!’

Not sure whether the outcry was meant to sound outraged or confused, she felt compelled to answer, missing the sharp tone she had aimed for completely.

‘The present… You didn’t need to… do  _that._ There was no…’

Suddenly Emma’s light eyes spat fire.

‘Price? Are you saying you think kissing you was about  _that_? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Regina? Jezus, what do you take me for?’

‘Are you saying your show of… For the lack of a better word, forgive me… ‘Affection’  was not out of gratitude, Miss Swa…?’

‘Oh enough with the ‘Miss Swan’ already! I didn’t kiss you because of the gift, ok? I mean, it’s beautiful… Hell, amazing actually. I have no words for it. It’s everything I ever could…’

The blonde caught herself and shook her head, the slight movement catching Regina’s attention in an odd way.

‘ _should_ wish for, but that was not the reason…’

‘Well then, by all means,  _Emma,_ enlighten me. Because I am confused as to why ‘The Savior’ would kiss ‘The Evil Queen’  _like that.’_

_And then apologize for it…_

Although she didn’t speak the last words, they resonated through her nonetheless, filling her heart with an ache that was nearly impossible to stand.

‘Because… Oh fuck, you are totally going to throw those other bottles at me too and.. Erm, they kinda look expensive…’

The blonde’s voice quivered suspiciously and only now did Regina notice how much the woman was actually trembling. It made her want to step forward and envelope Emma in her arms, protect her against anything that could possibly do her harm. A sentiment she could not afford to give into.

‘I… Regina, please. Maybe… The reason, maybe it could not be important? I thought I saw something, thought I realized something, but right now I see it was just all in my head. I’m sorry, I know I messed up, I just don’t want you to feel…’

‘What? Confused? Humiliated? Vulnerable? Too late, Savior! You wanted to explain, so now, explain. Why? Why  _did_  you kiss me?’

She could still feel the lips capturing her own, the bittersweet feeling overwhelming her and making the words come out hoarse. The urgency behind them however was clear, she saw, when her eyes met Emma’s. The earlier plea in them had made way for the impulsive anger she had seen so many times and found, secretly, so enticing.

‘Because I wanted to!’

There had not been many times Regina could remember being stunned, but right now, looking at the personified raw emotion that was Emma Swan, she realized this woman had had the ability to do so since she had first set foot on her garden path. She blinked at the blonde’s words, unable to grasp their meaning.

‘Because I’ve wanted to since… since… Hell, Regina! Since like forever! Have you looked at yourself lately? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? The effect you have on people?’

Actually, she had stopped looking long ago, her appearance only a means to an end, something she had used to unbalance her enemy. She knew people found her beautiful and had learned to use that to her advantage, but it was not something she cared about, despite what many thought. Now, however, when she heard the blonde’s so ineloquently put, spat out, compliments, she felt how her cheeks warmed with an unexpected, not entirely unpleasant, blush. Emma found her beautiful, had  _looked_  at her. Had  _wanted_ to kiss her. Had, if nothing else,  _noticed_ her.

‘You  _wanted_  to kiss me?’

Emma now looked straight at her, her rage deflating as her shoulders slumped and she flashed that same insecure smile she had featured the first time they had met.

‘Yes.’

Why, gods, couldn’t that just be enough? Why did her heart claw and struggle, yearning for more?

‘Then, why tell Miss Lucas spending time with me was…’

But she caught herself, the vulnerability that spoke though her words making her cringe inwardly. Because wanting to kiss someone and wanting to spend time with them were two separate things and the question she had meant to ask would only force the blonde to point out  _just_  that fact. And she wasn’t sure how much more heartache she could possibly stand. It was just that sliver of hope, the brightness of it etched in her very soul, she couldn’t ignore. It pushed itself through, wanting to grow or be shattered and all she could do was try to suppress it. She didn’t understand though, why the savior had been so inconsequential, kissing her in front of everyone while she had spoken those harsh words in defense of her own behavior at the diner to her best friend, a person she should trust beyond all others.

The question must have been visible in her features, because before she could stop the blonde, she had already answered.

‘Because Rubes knows, Regina. She…  _knows.’_

_‘_ Knows  _what?’_

It felt like pulling teeth, she constantly sensed that she was missing something, a crucial part of the puzzle to make sense of the whole picture. Or maybe it was just that her mind was slow in catching up, still dazzled by, not only the kiss (as if that wouldn’t have been sufficient) but also by the whirlwind of emotions, contradictions, that always captured her when in the presence of Emma Swan. _That_ , together with the tension that was so thick it was almost palpable, made her feel like it was impossible for her to breathe.

 Emma sighed, obviously as frustrated as Regina that she did not just (she could hear the woman’s voice ringing through her mind) ‘ _get it already!’._

‘How I feel about you!’

_Wait… What?_

Would wanting to kiss someone constitute as a feeling?

She let go of the counter behind her, wrapping her arms tightly around her as she shivered. She wanted to believe, so badly, that Emma was talking about more than simple desire for her beauty. But the realization that the hope she harbored was so much more likely to be crushed than fulfilled, left her with nothing but the cold and lonely feeling she had become so accustomed to.

‘Oh for fuck sake, Regina! She was  _bothering_ me. She knows, I think already since before… Since when she was my deputy? Or maybe even before that. She’s very observant, you know. She says it’s a wolf thing, but I’m pretty sure it’s a Ruby thing, or maybe a gossip thing. Anywho, she  _knows_  and she has been trying to needle me into action ever since. The thing you overheard? Her, pushing buttons, knowing how I respond to people calling you ‘Evil’… So… Yeah…’

If she had been stunned before, she was baffled now. Her hand found the counter once more as she felt strength and balance were not things she would easily gain at this moment. Had the savior just done the impossible? Had she actually just given an  _explanation_  for the words that had hurt so much, the words Regina had thought could only be interpreted in one way? Yet this explanation left her dizzy with the questions it evoked.

‘Yeah, for a woman who can hardly say a full sentence without a big ol’ dose of sarcasm you sure missed mine there when I answered, didn’t you? When I said it would be such a ‘sacrifice’ to be around you…’

‘A price…’

She heard herself repeat the word that had tainted her history, broken her so many times and the cringe that went through her now was anything but inward.

‘Yeah, a price… That’s what I said. Listen, had I known… what that word meant to you… Shit, Regina, I was an ass either way, but I never meant to hurt you, I really didn’t.’

Emma’s voice caught, the emotion so clearly audible as the woman almost tripped over the sincere, yet crude apology. Regina’s response came from deep within, the step she must have needed to take to approach the blonde not one she had consciously taken. But when she, instinctively, grabbed the Sheriff’s forearm, squeezing reassuringly, she saw the pupils dilate in response, the color becoming incomprehensibly deeper, the soul behind it reaching out to hers.

‘I know…’

And she did. She had known, on a rational level, before. That it had not been Emma’s intention to hurt her. But now she saw that her own history, her own memories, had painted the words, making her blind for their true meaning, which she, still, had trouble grasping.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

The curious question skipped of the tip of her tongue like a young child could do with the sidewalk. She wanted to reach out and catch the culprit, pulling back before it was too late. But, when she saw Emma’s face flinch in pain, she knew she already was. Her hand, only moment before warmed by the contact with Emma’s arm, fell lifeless to her side.

‘Hell, Regina, what did you want me to say?

“Hey, so, Henry’s back again, he did his math homework, but you might want to check it. Oh, by the way, I’m dying to make out with you?”

Or should I have tried: “Here, Madame Mayor, the paperwork concerning Mrs. Johnsons lost cat. Oh, by the way, I can’t stop thinking about you?”

Or would you have preferred: “Hey Regina, I need your help fixing my umpteenth Magical fuck-up. Oh, by the way, I am totally in love with you?” ‘

‘I… What?!’

The sarcasm pulsing through Emma’s words almost made her miss it, not only the professionally hidden but utter fear that lay in the turquoise, but also the meaning of the words. They started to resonate through her, seeping in and lingering to her veins finding their way to her heart making it quiver.

_In LOVE with her?_

‘Listen… I knew, I  _know_ you don’t feel that way… But I can’t stop feeling the way I do and it’s just that, when I saw that last picture… The one of the three of us? The way you  _looked_  at me, well, I thought it was me, but I figure now it must have been the kid, I just… Something… clicked… And then you wrote that you wanted to fill the rest of the album together and I just felt…’

She had felt it... Emma… Swan… The savior… The idiot… Had grasped the meaning of it, of the desire, the yearning, she had even tried to keep hidden for herself. Had seen her love on a simple photograph, had read it in the line expressing longing to form a family. And, the utterly ungraspable sentiment ringing through the words, the one she didn’t dare to believe, of Emma wanting the same thing.

‘Regina, I messed up, as you know and always tell me, I tend to do that. I… I took it the wrong way and instead of like, making a family, which we, in a weird way, already are, I made it into something more… Instead of asking you what you meant, I just sorta…  _Acted_. I can’t promise you much, I can’t promise not to look at you, or care for you, or save you. Hell, I can’t even promise you not to be an idiot. But I can promise not to do that anymore. I was way out of line kissing you like that without permission and I promise it will never happen again.’   

Her heart, racing to keep up with the blonde who now seemed so much closer than a moment before, plummeted when the last words caught up with it. With _her_. She felt dazed, fear and desire fighting a war, her heart and soul the captives taken. But then the Savior turned to leave, Regina realized her fear for what would happen if she  _did not_  speak up, was starting to outweigh the one for what would happen if she  _did_.

‘If I recall correctly, Emma, I reciprocated.’

The blush Regina felt shooting up to her cheeks seemed to have the oddest effect on the blonde, or maybe it were the words she had spoken so rapidly she would not have been surprised if Emma would have asked her to repeat herself. But the woman just stared at her, her back half turned, turquoise finding her over a shoulder covered with golden curls. It was a captivating image and would equal one of a princess in a storybook, had Emma not looked positively astonished… It was slow, but certain, the way the enticing body wrapped in dark blue silk rotated back to her again. Eyes squinted before a small, defeated smile painted the lips she now knew to be so deliciously soft. Regina couldn’t help glance at them as she bit her own, wanting to open up, wanting to reach out, but not at all certain as of  _how_  she could do so.

‘You were being polite?’

Emma Swan and shy? That was not something she had seen before… Embarrassed at her own awkwardness, yes. Apologetic and kindly apprehensive, as well… But shy? Yet there was no other way to describe the endearing self-awareness etched in the woman’s features. She felt her eyes being pulled to the pink bottom lip that was, in an action mirroring hers, grazed with teeth and fought to keep them up when her heart skipped a beat. She caught it too late, her own breathlessness overwhelming, the insecurity swirling in haunted eyes, now resulting into words.

‘Listen, Regina… I, I see what you’re doing there… And it’s really amazing and so cu… Erm… probably one of the reasons I lo… like…  _care about you_  so much, you know. You don’t want things to be awkward. Cool. I think they will be for a while but…’

‘Emma Swan, what are you going on about?’

‘You! Trying to make me feel better about kissing you!’

‘Was it that much of a disappointment, dear?’

It had been meant as a playful remark, which backfired almost immediately as she wondered if, perhaps, there was more truth in her words than she had originally thought.

‘What? I… No…’

The blonde looked down, the blush on her cheek now not of the endearing kind of before. Suddenly she saw it, the painful struggle and she couldn’t help but step in, move closer, reach out. Yet as soon as her fingertips grazed the soft skin of Emma’s jaw, in an attempt to make the blonde look up at her, the woman jerked back, immediately breaking the careful caress.

‘Don’t Regina… Please. Don’t play with me… Don’t play with  _this._  I can take a lot but in the end I’m only human…’

Emma had turned around, the tightness of her shoulders painfully visible, even with the blonde curls hiding most of the muscles from view. She wanted to touch, to stroke away the locks and replace them with her lips, easing the tension, but for a moment she could just watch as the sheriff seemed to collect herself, hands pressed against the counter before, shivery, turning once more.

It was the slight nod, accompanied by a sad smile that did it, spurring her into action as her heart told her the meaning of it even before the long, gorgeous legs started to make her way towards the kitchen-door. Emma Swan was saying goodbye. And not the simple ‘see ya’ variant she usually wielded, but the one that included letting go of hidden dreams of one’s heart. But this ‘farewell’, Regina knew, was based on assumptions, was based on the lies she had allowed her mask to tell, causing pain to the woman who had just so bravely opened up to her.

‘I don’t know how to love very well.’

The words slipped from her tongue and she scolded the high pitched catch in her voice, but Emma halted in her step, slowly turning around.

‘What?’

‘I… Gods, Emma, you’ve seen me with Henry. I hold on too tight or I push away too hard, I’m self-conscious and… terrified. I’m terrified to lose if I let go. I’m terrified to let go. But I’m terrified to hold on as well. To let myself love… The first time I did… Well, we all know how that turned out, and now? Now I am no longer that innocent girl. Oh yes, she was naïve and stupid, but she was good, Emma. So… pure and just… Maybe then I was worthy of love. But now? Now I am the Evil Queen. I am the villain and villains don’t deserve happy endings.’

‘No… You’re not the Evil Queen. That’s just a name. A bunch of letters forming a word. It has nothing to do with _you_. You are _Regina_. An infuriating, bad-ass Mayor with the sharpest tongue known to man, someone who calls me out on my bullshit, who cooks the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted and who protects and loves her son with everything inside of her. Yes, you have baggage, but Hell, don’t we all? Do you think I went through the system and came out undamaged? Do you think I don’t know what certain things do to a person? But still you managed to be a mother. Don’t you see what a wonderful person Henry has become? Is becoming? Because of you? He loves you!’

Emma seemed to hesitate, self-conscious, but before Regina could even start to decipher the feelings the other woman’s words were evoking, the blonde had continued.

‘ And, for what it’s worth, I’m here, Regina: I love you. I have for a long time and I don’t think I could stop even if you demanded it of me in that cute, amazing, scary, sexy low-voice thing you do. So, I know it’s not much, but there’s that…’

The three words resounded, hoarse, unpracticed and raw in their honesty, yet utterly perfect, through her heart. Love… Emma Swan  _loved_ her…

‘And yet, Emma, one day you will wake up and realize it has all been a mistake, a stupid thing you did because you convinced yourself it was the best for you, for us. And then, when you’ll see, you are condemned to a life with… Well… with  _me_ , you’ll run…’

The fear rolled of her tongue, tumbling in its hasty exit, much like the tears, threatening to spill on her cheeks. The terrifying sensation, constricting her chest, was and would ever only be soothed by the gentle turquoise she could not avoid to look into anymore.

‘Regina… All my li…  _Wait…_ What are you saying? That you would want me to  _stay?’_

The incredulous tone would have been insulting had it not been so heartbreaking, and Regina’s last resolve was lost.

‘Oh of course I want you to stay, you idiot! How can I not when you have torn down every defense I ever thought I’d built around my heart? How can I not, when you look at me with those eyes, full of self mocking when you do or say something foolish, when you shrug and look at me and see… See  _me_ … See, not the Evil Queen, but  _Regina_. Make me feel like I could be that person again, that might be worthy of your love? How can I not  _hope_  when you make me feel so much with just a touch, when you come back for me and save me, time and time again even when I don’t deserve it. When you kiss me  _like that?_ Just tell me, how can I resist you Emma Swan? How can I not love you!?’

It seemed like with every word, a string had drawn the blonde closer and when she almost screamed the last sentence, she felt soft palms capturing her cheeks, covering the tears finally released. Thumbs gently wiped them away, following a line from her cheekbone to her jaw, before she was pulled into a protective embrace. Lips found the top of her head at the same time her ear found the sound of the source of the love surrounding her. The rhythmic beat, increasing in pace as she, instinctively and to her own surprise, pushed herself closer, her arms on their own accord sliding around the blonde’s waist, was soothing and mesmerizing. Fingers, gently entwining with locks of her hair, were trembling, yet Regina felt a smile tug on the corners of her mouth.

‘Stop grinning, dear.’

‘How do you know… Oh right… Well, you’re kinda close and you smell amazing… And erm… You  _love_  me… So… I mean, yeah, sorry, Regina. Grin permanent, right now…’

She relished the sensation for a moment longer, trying to fight the sliver of fear invading her heart.

‘You’re going to run, one day…’

Her voice broke as she whispered the words, instantly wanting to reel them back in, insecure in the pain, breaking through the comfort of the embrace. Emma’s palm found her cheek again, pushing her back only enough to look into her eyes. For a moment she wanted to avert them, afraid to find doubt in the turquoise. But when two fingertips pressed an escaped strand of dark hair behind her ear before finding their way to her chin, pulling it up, forcing her eyes to meet the ones they never should have feared.

‘You know, all my life, I have felt like I was running from something. I never found rest, always thought something was chasing me away. But now… And god ‘Gina this is going to sound so corny, but now it feels like I was running towards something. I was running to find my family. To find my home.’

Emma’s fingertips continued their lazy exploration of her face and breathe tickled her lips when the blonde whispered the words that entered and lit up her heart.

‘I was running, Regina, to  _you!’_

Reaching out, no longer able to control the yearning feeling in her own fingers, Regina grazed the silky softness of blonde locks before allowing them to trail down and meet velvet skin. Was this really happening? Or would she, any moment now, wake up?

‘I know you might have a hard time believing. I have some experience with that. But I will prove it to you, if you let me. Every day of the life we can build together. I love you, Regina… Please, please let me.’

There are tears in turquoise eyes as well and as she caught one in her palm, for a moment Regina could have sworn she saw something glimmer in the pearly substance. It shone, as a falling star and gave her the courage she needed to step in and catch the next tear with her lips, a feather-light caress of the skin she had only just touched. Emma’s scents, her shampoo, Regina imagined, her Magic and the one that was _just_ her,  merged together into the most intoxicating combination she had ever smelled and she inhaled deeply, allowing it to fill her, knowing she would never grow tired of it. The blonde turned, only slightly, the question still lingering in the turquoise, merged with a hope, so fragile and yet so strong, it took Regina’s breath away. She did the only thing she could, it was as natural as coming up for air. She pulled Emma closer, searching the eyes for an indication she should stop and when she found none she, with all the love she felt inside of her, pressed her lips against her savior’s.

The rush of Magic seemed stronger this time around, making her cling onto the woman before her, deepening the kiss. A soft question of the tip of her tongue was answered with the parting of lips, and she moaned as she cupped Emma’s face in her hands, tugging her impossibly closer. Tender exploration exploded in raging  passion as she felt her lower back meet the counter. But before she could even feel the cold marble against her, she was lifted, placed upon it quickly without breaking the kiss. Hardly taking the time to ponder the woman’s physical strength, Regina let her hands slide over bare shoulders, grateful for the slit in her dress allowing her to spread her legs enough for the blonde to slide between them. Closer. A heat spread from place where skin met skin, mouth met mouth and she gasped into Emma when a hand found her back, trailing up while the other gently captured hers, fingers entwining in a Magical exchange of emotion. Fierce hunger and sweet tenderness followed each other in rapid succession, their lips meeting with the clear determination to make up for time lost. The patterns Emma’s fingers drew on her back were soothing as well as enticing and she felt herself shiver in the other woman’s arms, for the first time since she could remember not reprimanding herself for the show of weakness but simply enjoying the ripples of pleasure as they came. It could have been minutes or hours when they parted, only slightly, their foreheads lingering together as their rapid breathing and heartbeats found the rhythm of the other.

It was Emma who broke the silence, letting her finger’s play with the ones they were entwined with, making Regina tremble with every soft graze of her skin.

‘Wow… ‘Gina… Just… Wow.’

‘I still don’t know how to love very well…’

‘Hell, Regina, neither do I… But, maybe, we can figure it out together?’

When their lips met again, shortly, practiced, as if they would do it for the rest of their lives, it seemed like a sealing of the words, a promise bound by the Magic that filled the air around them.

It glittered before her, as she closed her eyes, sparkling like fairy-dust, as the tear in her palm had done, only moments before. The glimpse of the life she would have if she would give in to the yearning of her heart, no matter how terrified she was. And when she opened them once more, she saw the turquoise take her in, full of hope, full of love.

She spoke the word her heart was screaming, the word she could suddenly envision saying for a lifetime to the woman in front of her.

‘Yes…’

She added the whisper when their lips had already met, the shiver of homecoming coursing through her violently.

‘I love you, Emma Swan.’

She deepened the kiss, hungrily, longing for an answer in action rather than words as she let her hands slide into golden locks, pulling the woman closer, her teeth grazed the blonde’s lower lip eliciting a moan.

She had gone from the price to be paid, to the prize to be won. Or, actually, Regina thought as she felt the savior’s arms tighten around her, she was the one doing the winning.

Emma sighed it against her mouth, as if tasting the word for the first time, filling it with love, changing its meaning.

‘Regina…’

A hue radiated from them, their Magic, purple and blue, merging, swirling, enveloping them in a mist so bright it almost blinded her. A smile plucked on the corners of her mouth as she realized she had, indeed, found the light after her darkest day. A light brought in by an impossible blonde with mesmerizing eyes who was the mother of her child. A woman who could get a rise out of her and make her feel alive in any possible way. A sheriff who had broken through every defense she’d ever built around her heart.

She only heard the clock-tower chime midnight because of Emma’s words, tumbling towards her through the enchanting haze.

‘Merry Christmas.’

And, when she leaned in and stroked Emma’s lips with her own in answer to the tenderly spoken phrase, it was…

It really was.

**THE END…**

_(Well, for the story… For them? Just the beginning, yet a happy one I hope! ;))_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A-N: Of course, as Emma's last words, also 'Happy New Year' can be read :) I hope you all had/will have lovely celebrations, and all your wishes come true in 2014 (be careful what you wish for!). 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> ps: Yes I know, like a good friend said (you know who you are) ANGST in a Christmas-story? REALLY? *hides behind hands* I know I know... Happy holidays, everyone! Will update soon! Thoughts?


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